CoAbode

Pseudo Mom, By Lori Hughes

There are unpredictable pitfalls to living in someone else's home. A Pseudo-mom-away-from-home must learn to adjust for things are not there to accomodate your habits, your whims, your... addictions. In those days I was a super caffeine freak. I didn't start the day without a snootful of high-test espresso followed by a bottomless cup of extra dark coffee. But my Pseduo-home was not equipped to cater to my needs and the early morning drama of preparing for school made it nearly impossible to grab more than a single cup of weak Mr. Coffee style brew. Perhaps this explains the peculiar case of The Lock That Would Not Open. The front door had its own unusual ticks. The top and the bottom lock worked, the middle one did not. There was a key for the bottom but the top was locked from the inside by a knob or the outside by key. I don't know why on this particular morning I could not seem to unlock it with the same habitual ease that had worked every other morning but, on this day, at this time... I couldn't unlock the door! I had the key to the lock which I could unlock from outside but... I was on the wrong side of the door and could not get outside to unlock the damn thing. My little friend sighed heavily and sat on the stairs as I tried every latch, hook and gadget.

Finally, running late, foggy brained and all too aware that my Pseudo-daughter was rolling her eyes at my inept fumbling, I did what any sensible person would do. I got out a butter knife and dismantled the lock. Yes, I did. I took it off the door. It was a fairly simple assembly, a tiny dead bolt that probably wouldn't have withstood a well placed kick from a reasonbly healthy adult. I would have used a screw driver but had no idea where they kept such tools or even if they had them. But the butter knife worked well enough and we were soon free and out the door. I still don't know what she made of this entire affair. I thought about it at the office, over an endless cup of super-strength coffee. What lesson did she learn about life that day? What did she take away from that experience? I put the lock back together again that night. She never said a thing, my little darling, but the next morning when I put my key in the lower lock, she reached up and twisted the little knob that opened that tiny dead bolt.