My Family's Front Door

Doug's out of town visiting his family in Utah, so I'm at my family's house. I do not like being home alone when Doug's gone, so I usually make the 30 minute trip up to my folks' house in West Virginia on the weekends. I have yet to get a key to the house (the house I grew up in, the one I spent the first 18 or so years of my life in, yeah that one), so every time I come over if no one answers (which is pretty frequently if you know my family) I need to break into the house. Recently, my youngest brother Johnny (another whole story in itself) kicked in one of the wooden pieces in the front door, so if I lay down on the front porch and reach up through the hole, I can unlock the door. This is a very dangerous endeavor, navigating through all of the splintery wood and nails, but my arm is just long enough! The neighbors already think that my family is ...uh different, so what can it hurt? My dad is getting a new fiberglass door soon... I'm not sure how I'll get in the house then.