Yesterday I became the proud auntie of yet another perfect, beautiful niece. As I was dropping my first two perfect, beautiful nieces off at their house to spend the night with their grandmother it was discovered that one of the children (I suspect Owen) had, earlier in the day, locked the knob of the door that was supposed to be open and we therefore had no way to get into the house. As my brother's father-in-law raced off to the hospital to retrieve a key, I raced back to my car to retrieve a credit card. When I opened the car door, my phone was ringing. It was my brother.
"Do you know how to do the credit card thing?" he asked.
"One step ahead of you," I said.
Ten seconds and one library card later I had broken into my brother's house.
"You know how I know how to do that?" I said. "Remember when you were pet sitting that horrible dog for our neighbors and you locked the keys in the house? I watched Dad break in with a credit card."
"Yeah," said my brother. "That's how I knew about it too."
My brother and I both called Dad later to thank him for the valuable like skill.
His response: "Did I ever teach you how to hot wire a car?"
He didn't. I'm bitter. Once he had taught me about breaking and entering, why shy away from grand theft?