Well, my Thanksgiving party was going pretty well. Lots of food. Lots of laughter. Lots of noise. So much laughter and noise, in fact, that we did not notice the sound of Grandpa Ron trapped in the downstairs bathroom. Eventually niece Ella went and found Cyberspace Sarah and said, "That man is pounding on the bathroom door. He can't get out."
And that is how we discovered that the lock had finally broken with Grandpa on the inside.
At first, Brent just tried pounding him out. Nothing. Then he took the doorknob off. Nothing.
Brent and his helper were able to lower some tools down to Grandpa Ron. (Yes, that is the color of my bedroom carpet. Another joyful quirk of my home. Yes, with all the holiday friends and loved ones, there were people sleeping on the floor in every room.)
Grandpa took off the hinges and with some more artful pushing . . .
He was our own Chilean miner miracle.
There's never a dull moment at my house.