However, one time, my wife Jane was vacuuming in the front room. Harry loves watching the vacuum cleaner, in fact he is infatuated by the machine and will spend much time clambering over it and generally acquainting himself with its surface and dimensions. Jane stopped the cleaner to talk to me. Whilst we were talking, there was a growing awareness that Harry was missing his favourite activity. We began to wonder where he was. We shouted his name and looked. The more detailed rummage through the house both upstairs and downstairs and in the garden drew a blank. It was close to that time where puzzlement starts turning into anxiety and concern.
Then, with the search at a more heightened pitch back in the front room, I looked through the window that connects the front room with the hallway leading to the outside. I instantly spied a head bobbing up and down in a frenzied manner. We opened the door and a sweaty, hysterical little boy fell into his Mum’s arms sobbing with a mixture of relief and frustration. It turned out that Harry had gone into the front hallway area, and then closed the door on himself. Unfortunately at the time he didn’t have enough strength in his hands and arms to open the door again independently.
I can’t imagine what was going through his mind when he heard us moving around but without responding to his frantic screaming and pleadings for us to open the door. Jane thinks he was locked in there for just five minutes, but we honestly don’t know how long it was for. I’m just pleased that he’s too young to remember that little incident and that he quickly settled down after much cuddling and soothing from his parents.