Trapped

Vacation was nice and pretty uneventful. Oddly uneventful. So we came home and made an event.
Saturday morning we were getting back into our routine, washing clothes, organizing,etc. I put some eggs on the stove for an egg salad sandwiches and went to shower. Dusty was going to put some clothes away and closed the door in order to get into his closet. I rounded the corner in time to see him tugging diligently on the door handle. Twisting, turning, tugging and turning a different color. Hmmmm..what's the problem? The door isn't budging.
There are a few ways that I could react, of course I choose panic mode. We'll never get out, who will raise the children? Why did this happen to us? We're good people! We'll surely die before the days end!! Dusty is going through dresser drawers looking for his weapon of choice...im thinking..pants..shorts, what are you looking for exactly? I look on top of the bookshelf for the tiny screwdriver we have there due to Gus' habit of locking the bathroom door from the inside. I find the tiny screwdriver and get to work- by work I mean more panic. Our phones are on the other side, we can't call for help, oh God help us! Gus starts pulling on the other side and I explain to him that we are stuck and he needs to go tell Mammie that she needs to call Uncle. This means Gus is going to take the gate down and give Simon. Access to the stairs. Yay. So we find a regular screwdriver (for whatever reason it was on top of Dusty's nightstand-kinda alarming) and Dusty starts working.
I hear Mammie trying to open the door and explain to her what's going on. She goes upstairs to call Jeremy. Of course for those of you who know Mammie, you realize that this might take a minute. Also, there is the fact that she has a cordless phone but has to stand next to the handset in her mind. She will even set down the cordless phone to go find a phone number to recite to me as I wait on the other end.
I am still in panic mode and beginning to cry and rock back and forth if sitting or pacing. I yell for Gus and he's not responding...that means he went upstairs. So where is baby Simon? Is he alone? Is he scared? Is he halfway up the stairs? Dusty tells me" go over there Emily" in hindsight im wondering what good would 5ft away do? He felt as though he needed to be in control of an out of control situation. So I do what any out of control, panicked, worried mom would do-started chipping away at that door as hard and as fast as I could with the screwdriver. After about a minute Dusty took over while I resumed pacing and talking about the boys being raised while we were trapped in our room, how scared Simon must be and how much I would miss the sunshine. Dusty said here hold the screwdriver at an angle (very obviously not listening to me explain how our lives were OVER) so I did and kept on explaining our certain doom and pop, he pulled the door open.
Oh. That's it? We're out? I run upstairs and tell Mammie we're free and kiss my children. Mammie and Gus had each taken one of Simon's hands and drug him up the stairs:) I came back down and saw there was still 8 minutes left on the eggs...the timer was set for 15 minutes. Longest 7 minutes ever!