We got home, let's say around 12:20, I get ready for bed, I am unloading the washing machine, Rob is getting ready for bed, (our bathroom is big enough for a small washing machine, but barely big enough for two people to stand up straight, I start heading for the bathroom door with my hamper in my arms... And then the fateful moment. "Rob did you lock the bathroom door?" I ask as we exchange desparate glaces. I set the hamper down, and focus my attention on the door - unlock - lock - unlock. Nothing.
WE ARE LOCKED IN OUR BATHROOM!!
Stay calm. All we have to do is break-into our living room, this should be easy. What do we have to work with? No screw-drivers, No credit cards, No CELLPHONES! Okay now I'm getting scared. I have a pair of tweezers - :) hee hee, and Rob yanked a "pigeon deterrent" off the window sil. The WINDOW - the courtyard is quite, every light is off, all the windows are somber, this is not going to be our salvation. Back to the door.
With his new twisted tweezer tool Rob developed a system of inching the spring-loaded latch back into the door bit by bit. Bit-by-bit. Bit by bit by zzzzz-z-z. Wake up. Okay so we know the system works, but it takes forever and you can only get it so far before it springs back out again confirming the destitution of our situation. (I'm starting to calculate, we have water, but we can only survive on chewable vitamin C tablets for so long before... just kiding) In fact, I have my own system, I slip the long narrow pigeon deterrent behind the latch and gently pull trying to find that grove that will slide the unwilling latch back into the door. But whatever has broken has forced the latch even further into the door jamb, and that slanted grove is nowhere to be found. So we take turns giving our methods a try, and finally once our parts are perfected we both give it a try simultaneously. My pigeon deterrent is in place, I get the door handle in an "open" position and gently pull in preparation for that fateful moment, Rob gets his tweezer tool in place (resembling nothing of it's old tweezer life at this point) and he starts nudging the latch bit-by-bit until, yes the pigeon-spear catches the grove, slides forward, slips the latch into the door, and WE'RE FREE!!!
It's 1:30 am. The laundry gets ignored. I go to bed.
