Oh, The Drama!
I had just settled the kids in bed and reclined on the couch to veg with Star Trek Enterprise when DS#3 called down the stairs to report that someone was locked in the kids bathroom. Oh, great. Dear Husband is out of town. I went upstairs fulling believing that Dear Daughter had somehow gotten out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom. (DD has had her doorknob taken off on the inside of her door to keep her from wandering around the house in the middle of the night). DD was not locked in the bathroom. The victim was Dear Son #2.
DS#2 is 10 and fully capable of getting himself out of the bathroom. For some reason the knob was turning but the bolt was not releasing. We called DH on the phone and he suggested to take off the door knob. We pulled out the tools and I passed my smallest flathead screwdriver under the door for DS#2 to use. He had a little difficulty getting the screws out of the handle but soon had the door knob off. It became apparent that this route wasn't working. I was feeling stupid and DS#2 was beginning to wonder if he was going to spend the night in the bathroom. It really wasn't too bad of an option. He had a source of water and a toilet. He could sleep in the bathtub. But the idea of us passing food under the door didn't appeal to him. So we called our home teacher.
Our home teacher is a young married, no kids. He came over quickly with his wife in tow and tools in hand. It turns out that I wasn't stupid, because he couldn't figure it out either. He worked with his tools for a while and then his wife pulled out a credit card. While he bragged on her breaking-and-entering-with-a-credit-card talents, she taught DS#2 the finer points of wielding a credit card for nefarious purposes. It didn't work but DS#2 gave it a good try. There was no option but to have our home teacher kick down the door. DS#3 was so excited to watch him do it, and wearing flip-flops, too! To DS#3 this was better than his favorite ninja animes. Luckily for us there was no damage to the frame or trim and very little damage to the door. The rest of the hardware fell apart and it was obvious that the door knob was broken. DD (whose bedroom door is right next to the bathroom) slept through it all.
DS#2 was grateful to get out at last and relieved that he wouldn't have to eat breakfast in the bathroom. We thanked our wonderful home teacher and his wife for coming at that late hour and walked them to the door. Tomorrow I will make a loaf of banana bread to take over as a thank you.
Oh, the drama of possible eternal incarceration, hardware puzzles, karate kicks, and having the hero save the day in the end. I think that DS#3 has not been so half well-entertained in a long time. He told me it was better than a movie.