I say sort of because he's the one that caused the whole kerfuffle in the first place. But, in the end, he saved the day.
We live in the ground floor of a brownstone building and have our own separate entrance that faces the street, rather than using the main door that leads to the rest of the apartments in the building. I have always been very cautious about that door, making sure I have keys with me whenever I step outside (even if just for a second). Because once that door shuts, it is locked.
One beautiful evening we met Brian at the 72nd St subway and walked home together. I opened the door, hung the keys* on the hook inside and proceeded to push the stroller into the apartment. Before the stroller was in Oliver excitedly dashed inside and slammed the door shut, giggling the whole time. I was stunned. And immediately grateful Brian was there to help. Brian and I looked at each other and brainstormed quickly.
It was just barely after 5pm. Perhaps the management office would still be open? (They are located only a block away.) I left the kids with Brian and dashed over to their office. It was locked and the lights off. Bummer! As I walked back to our place I figured we would need to call a locksmith and pay the few hundred dollars to get the door unlocked.
By the time I got back, Brian was calling to Oliver through the open window. Oliver (only two years old, may I remind you) had moved a kitchen chair over to the hook with the keys, got the keys off the hook, carried them to the window** and handed the keys to Brian. (Fortunately it was a beautiful day and I had left the window open while we went out.) I was stunned and amazed. And extremely relieved to be reunited with our sweet Oliver so quickly.
*We now keep a set of keys at Brian's work (which is accessible 24hrs) and a set with some neighbors.
**The window does have a iron grate over it so only hands can reach through.
