At the house I grew up in, the doorknob on the bathroom for the first couple of years we lived there had a bad habit of locking when you closed the door and turned the knob. One Spring Break, when I was there by myself, I got up one morning went to the bathroom, and closed the door. Before I could stop turning the knob, click. Soooo, I was locked in there, wearing nothing but my underwear till my Mom came home on her lunch break! Needless to say, we got my Dad to put a new knob on.