All you heard was, "Papa, don't hit me no more"

It takes three keys to get through my front door when it's fully-locked. And the door is sticky so you have to kind of kick it open once it's unlocked. And my neighbor is a strange but very nice man who fetes my arrival by telling me Chuck Norris jokes. Every day.

When I get into my car after work I have to pack all my stuff into one side of the car so that when I park at home I can get all my bags with minimal face-time with the neighbor. Then I scurry to my door and, all-hands-full, try to get in as quickly as possible because the Chuck Norris jokes follow me to my doorstep. I can only afford to lock two locks because using three keys while trying to smile at my neighbor would completely exhaust all resources available to me at 5pm.

Last week, Boyfriend locked all three locks. Confused and angry, my struggle to open the door turned into a meltdown. "Excuse me," I said to my neighbor, then screeched, "RAAARRGH!! MOTHERFUCKER!!!", then proceeded to knee and kick the door and twist the doorknob in frustration until Boyfriend opened it. "New rule!" I shouted as I walked in, "No one EVER uses the third lock!"

He hadn't since. Until yesterday. Yesterday, Boyfriend locked the third lock, but he was out of town and therefore unavailable for punishment for his violation of the rule.

Does his third-lock decision seem as calculated to you as it seems to me?