They look even more effective due to their draconian, confusing curlicues and deceptively blase' design. They even leave a large gap in the door so you and your kid can stare each other down.
And for the first application, they may be visually arresting to the point of immobilizing your wanderlusty 2 year old.
But the luster of newness fades quickly. Soon they get down to the business of solving this new barrier to their freedom.
If Espen were to be cast as a dinosaur, he would be Velociraptor. You can actually see his brain figuring out how to bring down authority, door locks, and anything else standing between him and his objective.
Case in point, last week I was home alone with the little raptor. It was Naptime and the child was not interested. His plans involved more bagels, more sand, more freedom. Certainly not sleeping.
Mom: Come on, Wesp. It's time for naps.
Espen: Why.
Mom: Because rest helps you get bigger and stronger.
Espen: My babe-o! (which means, "I'm Babe-o. Which means he's about to flip into his interpretation of what babies are like. Usually this involves a high pitched sustained sound like a siren.)
Mom: Ok. Babe-oes need rest even more than big boys because they are so small and growing.
Espen: Mama, go away.
Mom: Alright, but you need to stay in your bed and sleep.
Espen: Mama, go away. No put lock on door.
Mom: I won't as long as you stay in bed.
Espen: Ok. Mama go away.
So I leave, only to have him bound out of his room two minutes later.
Espen: Helloooooo mama!
Mom: Ok, now we are going back to your room and mom is putting the lock on.
Espen: (Wails) Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!?!?!?!?!
Mom: Because that was the deal. You knew this.
Espen: NO PUT LOCK ON DOOR!!!
Mom: Next time you can chose to stay in your bedroom and we won't put the lock on.
Deposited in his room, with the lock on, the door has about 2 inch gap between the door and the door jamb. It's a big crack.
Up to this point in time, Espen has responded to the door lock by throwing himself on his bed and ragefully crying until he burns up the excess energy and falls peacefully to sleep.
Today, there was only silence. And the occasional sound of something scraping along the floor. I chose to ignore it as the only thing movable in his room is the large reading chair.
You would think I'd have learned by now that ignoring strange noises leads to nothing productive.
Mais, non.
Ten minutes pass. Espen giggles. Makes jiggling sounds. Then silence.
I tiptoe to his room. The door is closed with a tiny crack, just the way he likes it. The childproof door lock is lying quietly on his wooden horsie that I have removed to enhance boredom leading to sleep.
I crack the door. The chair is pushed up against it. Espen is sound asleep.
Not a word, not a "HA HA! MOMMA!"
Just silent proof that you can't tame a wild animal.
