My daughter has a blank diary that came with a small metal lock and key so that one could theoretically secure their private thoughts. Although Daisy has never used the diary, last week she realized that she had misplaced the key and was unable to even open the journal. Her six year-old body soon filled with loss and many tears ensued.
Her mother (Hank) and I examined the lock. This looked like a solveable problem. I assured her I would be able to pick this crappy little lock.
So, Hank purchased a new lock the next time she was in the hardware store and I began to poke at the diary with various pointy objects, trying to figure out how to unlock it. How exactly does one pick a lock? Keep in mind that I'm the opposite of handy. Unhandy? Footy? Lame?
I poked at the lock with a safety pin, a small screwdriver, a bent paper clip, a PDA stylus, and what remained of my pride. No dice. This chintzy lock, which probably cost about 3 cents to make, defied my every attempt to circumvent its rickety security. Eventually I was reduced to talking to myself.
"Why is this not working? Why can't I figure out how to pick this crappy chintzy lock? It looks like I could almost just break it open, so I should be able to pick it pretty easily!..... Wait! What did I just say?"
I quickly realized that this was the holy grail of problems, one of perhaps two in the entire world, that is best solved with a hammer. I didn't have to pick the lock. Neither skill, nor dexterity, nor smarts, nor precision was required here. I could literally smash this problem away.
I raced out to the garage with the diary in tow, plucked my issue-resolver from the toolbox and immediately dashed the lock to bits. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! I fixed this problem by banging on it with a hammer! Some days, it's good to be a man. When my wife returned home, I triumphantly showed her the unlocked diary. "How did you do it?" she asked, setting me up with a big fat pitch right across the plate.
I considered brandishing my penis like a bat but instead retorted with, "ZOG PICK LOCK WITH HAMMER!" I crowed, lurching around the kitchen. "SMAAAAAAAASH LOCK!! ZOG SMART!"
"I'm very proud of you," clucked Hank.
Daisy was delighted.