The addition of Netflix streaming to our monthly entertainment bill has opened up the world of spying and detecting to my youngest daughter. She started out watching seasons of
Psych on her cousins' recommendation and gradually worked her way through various shows, ending up on
Burn Notice. She lives and breathes the ways of Michael Westen. Lately her obsession is picking locks.
Darcy: "Mom, can you put this zip tie around my wrist?"
Me: "What? Why?"
Darcy: "Because I'm going to get out of it using this bobby pin. I learned how to do it on
Burn Notice."
Me: "Is that why you bought those bobby pins yesterday?"
Darcy: "Maybe."
That is her standard answer to my questions where the answer is really "yes" and she knows I know it and she knows it will annoy me. I zipped up on wrist and she promptly got loose using her bobby pin. She was very proud of herself.
Me: "You do know that any bad guy will zip tie both of your wrists, right?"
Darcy: "Maybe. Maybe not."
Me: "Well, they will. And most likely both hands will be behind your back. If you really want to be a spy you should practice getting out of that."
Darcy: "Yeah, well, that will be hard."
Me: "Yeah, well, that is how I would tie you up every time you answered "maybe" to my questions, but the law won't allow me to do that."
Darcy: "Okay, okay. Zip tie my hands behind my back."
Me: "No. How about I zip tie both wrists in front first. Work your way to the back slowly."
I zip tied her wrists in front of her and turned back to my computer to work. Ten minutes later she was still zip tied.
Darcy: "Okay, cut me out."
Me: "No."
Darcy: "What? Seriously. I can't do it."
Me: "Would Michael Westen just give up like that? If you are really in a bind like this, you're telling me you would give up and let them torture you or kill you or whatever? What kind of a spy are you going to be?"
Darcy: Sigh.
She kept working for a good twenty minutes. She went through several bobby pins that all ended up with chewed ends on my carpet in front of her feet. By the time I swiveled in my chair to tell her I would help her out she had a pair of scissors turned backwards cutting herself out. She was quite proud of that.
Darcy: "Yes! Yes, I did it!"
Me: "As long as the bad guys leave a pair of scissors out in plain sight you will be good. Of course, you're hands will be behind you so that might take some time."
Darcy: "True. Tie my hands behind my back and I'll try to get out with these scissors."
Me: "No. I draw the line there."
Several days later she submitted her Christmas wish list and number one was "lock picking set". A few days after that we were driving home from her Aunt's house where we had been visiting with the cousins here from Chicago. She and Madison were in the back seat talking about how big their cousins were and what everyone had talked about and then I heard this exchange:
Madison: "Did you even try?"
Darcy: "Yes. Aunt Julie has really terrible locks. There wasn't a door in her house that I couldn't pick."
Me: "What? What? You were picking locks on doors at Aunt Julie's house? With what?"
Darcy: "Bobby pins. I could do every door that had a lock on it."
Me: "Oh, for god's sake, Darcy. Please tell me you aren't going around to your friend's houses and picking their locks."
Darcy: "No, Mom." Silence. "But I could."
After Thanksgiving, I hauled out the Christmas decorations and started working on the outside of my house. The girls came home from school and I continued working, listening to Christmas music to try and get into the spirit despite the 80 degree weather. From the outside I moved into the inside with a few trinkets and was stopped short at this sight:
Me: "What the hell are you doing?"
Darcy: "Picking the lock."
Me: "And how long have you been doing that? How's it going?"
Darcy: "Well, not so great. That's why I need a lock picking set. If I had that I would've been in the house already."
Me: "Let me guess. You're using bobby pins."
Darcy: "Yep. And I've already gotten into four boy's lockers at school using bobby pins."
Me: "Please tell me you are kidding about that."
Darcy: "No, really. I picked all of them."
Me: "What? This is school we are talking about. You can't pick the locks on lockers at school! You can be kicked out of school for doing that. Are you crazy? When did this happen?"
Darcy: "During lunch. They all knew it, Mom. I'm not stupid. They dared me that I couldn't. I got into
's locker, and
's locker, and 's locker. (Names have been covered for security reasons)
Me: "And the fourth locker? You said four lockers. The fourth boy knew too, right?"
Darcy: "Maybe."
I just hope Homeland Security isn't watching my Internet searches and my purchases. I'm concerned they just might show up at my door for the holidays.