My briefcase and lunch bag and shopping bags hung from my wrists and hands, and I strained an arm awkwardly up to turn the handle of the door from the garage where I had parked to the house.  Ugh, I thought when I turned the nob and the door remained closed, she locked me out.  Again.  Down went all my bags so I could pull my keys out of my pocket and let myself in.  The big electric garage doors are shut all day, so no threat exists of a stranger entering the house through that door.  Only I come through that door, precisely once a day after work.  I have asked Mom not to lock me out, and she apologizes, with no awareness of having locked the door.  I deduced that when she habitually turns on the outside garage lights (three hours before dusk) on a trip to the bathroom, she habitually turns the dead bolt to lock.  Instead of complaining, I should just assume the door is locked and have my key ready.