My cousin Joshua doesn't listen very well. After all that fuss about the stupid lock on Saturday night, and my insistence on its NOT being locked for safety reasons, he went right ahead and locked the broken lock last night after I went to bed.
Result? When I tried to go and get the papers this morning, I couldn't get OUT of the house.
Well, I made him get up and take the damn lock out of the door - and, just for funsies, he has now got it firmly fixed in his head that everything is MY fault - broken lock, being locked in the house, etc., etc., etc., including, I think, the intruder in the garden, about whom he doesn't seem to be in the least worried. After all, it was only me, not him out there with this guy. (I should mention that I'm a rather mild claustrophobe, but it gets unmild real fast when I realize I'm locked in a house out of which I cannot get, so you can imagine I was NOT in the best of moods at this point.) And who in the hell decides to lock a broken lock without testing that it can be opened, for God's sake?
Grumph.
Love, Wendy
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