Note: Bug Bytes are simple snippets, quick thoughts. Thanks for reading.
My brother Allan and his wife, Jennifer, are among our neighbors at the lake house in New Hampshire.
One night in October, we had dinner at their place and then walked home to our house less than a tenth of a mile away. We took a nightcap out on our deck to stare at the lake, the stars, and the brightly lit resort on the hill across the water. We shut the door behind us because it was chilly outside, in the high 40s.
Jacques and I got talking about some projects we wanted to do inside the house, and we got up to go in and take a look at one in particular. “Oh my god,” I said as I turned the door knob and discovered it resisted my efforts. “We’re locked out here!”
The deck is on the second story, and there is no flight of stairs down to the ground. Inside, I saw my cell phone taunting me from the kitchen counter. “Tell me you have your phone,” I said. Jacques did. “You have to call Allan.”
Jacques really didn’t want to take that step, so he walked the perimeter of the deck, looking for a good spot where he could climb over and jump down. “You can’t do that,” I said, laughing. “You’ll break your other leg.”
So, Jacques dialed. It was nearly 11 o’clock. “Allan,” Jacques said when my brother answered. “God, I hate that I have to tell you this.” There was a pause, then, “We locked ourselves out on our deck. Could you come let us inside?”
Allan and Jennifer walked up together, came inside our unlocked basement door, and opened the deck door for us. “Is this the kind of neighbors you two are going to be?” Jennifer asked us.
“Quite possibly,” we said.