Well, I knew this day would come. I made my first 9-1-1 call. With all of the shenanigans boys seem to get into, I knew it was only a matter of time before Mason would so something that would warrant the Fire Department. I just didn't think it would happen this soon!
Let's back up. It was only a week or so after we got moved into our new house. Mason was in his bathroom playing and I was tackling the never ending job of unpacking and organizing. While he was playing, he shut the door to the bathroom. No big deal, he shuts doors all the time. When I went to open the door to check on him, I couldn't get the door open. The sink is right there by the bathroom door, and when Mason had closed the door, he had also opened a drawer on the vanity - thereby creating an amazingly strong barricade. Great.
I was able to open the door less than a quarter of an inch. I was brainstorming harder than I have ever before. I thought if I could get a knife through the gap, I might be able to stab the side of the drawer and slowly work it closed. I called Mike (who was 45 minutes away) and told him what was going on. After 10 minutes of trying almost everything we could think of - AND 10 minutes of hearing my precious baby boy screaming on the other side of the door, Mike told me to call the Fire Department.
I made the call to 9-1-1 and the Firemen were on their way. I felt like such a dork standing there with a handful Firemen in my house trying to figure out how to get my child out of the bathroom. After 10 minutes of them trying to figure things out, they finally were able to free Mason (no pun intended). One of the men leaned on the door to create a wider gap, and the other one used the knife I had to close the drawer (just like I had tried to!). When they opened the door and Mason came toddling out - face full of tears and snot - they all gave a collective "Awwwwwww!" and he ran to my arms. And that was my first call to 9-1-1. Let's hope it's the last.
