Knock Knock

John’s obsession with having all the doors closed has been taken to a new level. I have no idea what has brought his current obsession to the fore, but I can safely say it is logistically one of the more challenging for me to get to grips with.
I recently wrote about John yelling ‘Door’ everytime I entered a room that he was in. It was a frantic race to get in and out before he slammed the door shut, taking with it one of my limbs. This resulted in my nerves being in shreds, therefore whenever I took him his meals my coordination was all over the place. The food ended up on the walls, carpet, computer and me. John thought it was hilarious.
I thought he was over this particular obsession, how wrong could I be.

He was in high spirits when I collected him on Friday, he was playing hide and seek with his support worker. She has the patience of a saint and he loves her to bits. I heard his muffled titters from behind a door somewhere upstairs, while she pretended that she didn’t know where he was.
She lent over the bannister and said “He’s hiding in the bathroom, he always hides in the bathroom” Then she went through the motions of knocking on all the doors.
She finally knocked on the bathroom door “Is John Ellsmoor in there?”.
“No!” Shrieked John dissolving into hysterics “Johnelmo laundry” and judging by the loud bump I guessed he had keeled over with mirth.
“Righty ho,I will go and see if he is in the laundry” she said and pretended to walk back downstairs by stomping up and down on the spot.
John could be heard wheezing and guffawing in the bathroom until I feared he might expire altogether.

Eventually we managed to get him to open the bathroom door, which involved a sort of coded number of knocks in a set pattern, we set off back home. “What’s with all this knock knocking stuff John” I asked.
“Door. Knock. Yes.” Explained John, demonstrating by knocking on the dashboard, the window and his head. He looked at me and nodded.
“Oh right, well that explains everything” I replied looking back at him. I couldn’t help but laugh he is such a funny boy, well, funny man, he is 26 after all!

On the way home we stopped off at the balloon shop in Meols to buy a huge silver number nine, as you do. John had been promised it from the previous weekend and he never ever forgets. It was a bit of a struggle to squeeze it into the car as it completely filled the back and kept nudging me in the head for the remainder of the journey.

When we arrived home John stayed in the car while I opened the front door and carried his goods and chattels into the house. I heard the door slam and assumed the wind had caught it. That’s when I heard ‘The Knock’ …..it goes something like this…..2 slow knocks followed by 3 quick ones and then 2 slow ones again.
Knock-knock…. Knock knock knock….knock-knock…..do you get the idea!
I opened the door to find John jumping up and down. “Oh sorry John boy, did the door close before you got inside?” I ruffled his hair and he got me in a headlock yelling “Knock” down my ear.

Once I regained consciousness John helped me take his stuff upstairs but refused to go into his room or the computer room. Usually he dashes straight in to check everything is exactly as he left it. However he absolutely refused to go in. “Mummy door” he said pointing to the door and at me. I opened his bedroom door and went in, he shut it behind me with a bang. Then came the knock as it had sounded downstairs, I realised that it had been John and not the wind which had closed the front door.
I waited to see if John would come in, he didn’t, choosing instead to knock again even more loudly and to shout instructions from the landing.
“Mummy door, now, peas, ok yes!”
I opened the door and John bounced in, rolled on the bed, checked everything was in place and shot out again. He was stood outside the computer room, the door was open. John leaned in and closed it.
“Mummy door” he instructed again.
“What? John you just closed it” I said ” What are you playing at, just open the door and go in for goodness sake, I’m going to make us both a drink” and with that I went back downstairs shaking my head at his new ‘game’.

When I returned with our drinks he was still standing outside the computer room, rocking back and forth and mooing gently along with a song on his iPad.
“Door peas mummy” he asked again and thinking I must have forgotten which was which, he poked me in the tummy and pointed at the door. He was very calm and continued mooing until I opened the door and went inside. He yanked it shut and commenced with the coded knocks. I opened the door, he walked in yelled “Door!” and I shot out.
Oh dear god, the monster that is the door obsession just grew horns.

This carried on until bed time, I had been in and out of John’s room, the computer room, the bathroom and every other flipping room in the house for nine hours. My legs were like jelly and my ears rang with the noise of all the knocking and squealing , John doing the knocking and me the squealing.
I nearly cried with relief when he announced that he was going to bed.
Things would have to change tomorrow or neither John or I would live to see Sunday. I crawled into bed and fell sound asleep.

I woke up with a start, it was pitch black and I was disoriented. There was a cacophony coming from John’s room, bangs, loud music and what sounded like a jumbo jet taking off over his bed. My heart was thumping with the shock of being woken so suddenly. John’s bedroom door was wide open. There was indeed a video playing of a jumbo jet taking off and ABBA were singing ‘Does Your Mother Know’……ok, so they were actually singing ‘Dancing Queen’ but how good would this post be if they had been singing it.

John was jiggling about on the landing clearly in need of the toilet and was banging the bathroom door with his toy helicopter.
“Door mummy peas, WEEEEE” he shrieked signing for toilet while crossing his legs so keen was he that I understood how desperate he was. I don’t know how long he had been patiently waiting for me to wake up, but clearly drastic action had been called for hence the Jumbo Jet and ABBA. Bloody ABBA, I have never liked them, of all groups he could have chosen to wake me up!

” Ok Ok John!” I opened the door and rushed in, he slammed the door behind me. I had forgotten to put the light on, the switch is on the landing so once the door was closed I could hardly see a thing. As I turned around I saw a huge eerie shimmering ghost like figure hovering over the bath. I nearly had a heart attack! It was the huge silver number 9 balloon which had somehow bobbed its way into the bathroom during the night. Note to self….if you buy a 6ft balloon don’t leave any windows open when you go to bed.

Back to John’s dilemma……his need for the toilet was interfering with his ability to knock in the right sequence and he was just randomly banging on the door so I opened it. John shut it again, he needed to get the sequence right or he felt he couldn’t go in the bathroom.
I knocked from inside the door in the right sequence to help him, it worked. He knocked in reply, I opened the door but before I could get out of the way he stormed in pushing past me in his hurry to get to the toilet. I stumbled and grabbed hold of the nearest thing to stop me falling backwards, I felt a warm trickle on my hand. I had grabbed hold of the side of toilet rim just as John was breathing a sigh of relief!

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4 thoughts on “Knock Knock

  1. Ha ha ha – more!!!!! Harry won’t leave the house until he has shut all the doors………….we spend a fortune on balloons just to watch them float away into the sky……….Thankyou for making me laugh again! Xxx

    • Thanks Jayne, John and Harry obviously have a lot in common!
      When John was younger he too would let the balloons go as soon as we got home. We had a huge dinosaur one stuck in a tree once and it scared all the local kids!
      Glad you are enjoying the blog and big hugs to to you and Harry xx

  2. Julie as usual a big belly laugh-the laugh I hope not the belly!
    That is really something to use ABBA too -adding insult to injury. He is a man of purpose but I hope for your sake this phase will wear off. You really do turn it all so brilliantly -Thank you.

    • Haha! Thanks Margaret, he was that excited over his forthcoming trip to Belfast on the S boat that he just lost the plot! If he is still as obsessed and knocking when he gets back I will be moving in with you! Xxxx

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