In honor of my “baby” brother

When I was little (6 or 7 maybe?), we were living in Lilburn and I think my parents were still together at the time. Apparently I had developed a habit of locking my bedroom door, so my clever parents swapped my doorknob putting the lock on the outside. Great idea, guys! My best friend, Kelly, was over, and we were playing in my room when my little brother Adam decided to lock the door. FROM THE OUTSIDE! We were trapped! I think it was one of those turning thumb type locks, not a pop button lock, so if I had had a mini screwdriver, we would have been fine. BUT I WAS 6! And sadly my parents hadn’t bought me my first toolbox yet. I don’t remember how long we were in there, but it seemed like forever. We screamed and stomped on the floor to get someone’s attention to let us out. Of course, we’d been perfectly content to sit and play in there up until the point that we were trapped. Someone eventually freed us, but that part didn’t make quite the same impression as being locked in by my little brother.