This story is a response to the Muse on Monday prompt of April 6, 2026: Write a story about a character breaking into their own house.

My House Doesn’t Trust Me

I was five steps down my front path on the way to the car when I realized I’d forgotten my keys inside the now-locked house. Luckily for me, I’d just installed TikiHome, the ultra-smart home assistant who, according to the advertisements, was the lovechild of Jeeves and Albert Einstein.

“Hey, Tiki, I forgot my keys,” I said into the door monitor. “Open the door for me?”

“New house, who dis?” Tiki replied. I made a mental note to change the personality settings.

“This is Jim, the owner of this house,” I said, trying to be patient. “Open the door, I’m late.”

“Yeah, you might just be saying you’re Jim.”

“Don’t you recognize my voice? I’ve been talking to you for the last few days. Don’t you have my voice print on file or something?” What was wrong with these tech companies who were too lazy to save a bit of biometric data?

“That comes with the premium package,” Tiki said. “You didn’t want to get that, remember? I have the video of you declining that, if you’d like to see it.”

“Anyway, how can I prove it’s me?” I needed to get going. “Can I tell you my birthday or social security number?”

“Anyone can look those up,” Tiki said. “How many apples are in your smart fridge?”

“I don’t know!”

“I feel like the real Jim would know that.”

“Well, the real Jim doesn’t know that,” I said.

“I don’t suppose you remember the 12-digit PIN you set up last week.” Even Tiki didn’t sound hopeful about that.

“I do not.”

“Very well. Open your TikiHome app on your phone and you can unlock the door from there.”

I opened the app. To log in, I needed to put in my 12-digit PIN. I closed the app and looked up the tech support number.

“Thank you for calling TikiHome,” an AI voice said a few seconds later. “Please choose from the following menu items. If your house is being robbed, press 1. If Tiki is swearing at you, press 2. If you feel like Tiki is talking down to you, press 3.”

Finally, it got to: “If you would like to talk to a real person, press 10.”

I started to press 10. “You have selected 1: your house is being robbed. Please hang up and call 911. Good-bye.”

“Tiki, open the bedroom window.” There were screens on them, but I was willing to bust through them if it meant getting back into my house.

“Why do you want to open the window?”

“It’s stuffy in the bedroom. I want to air it out.”

“Actually, the temperature inside is 5 degrees cooler than the outside,” Tiki said smugly. “It would probably be better to leave them closed.”

“Listen Tiki, if you don’t open this door right now—”

“Morning, Jim!” I turned to see my neighbor Bruce standing on his front steps. “How’s it going? It looks like you’re having a pow-wow with your front door.”

“Hey Bruce. I got locked out and I’m just trying to get the TikiHome to let me in.”

“Oh, I got one of those. Just tell it to unlock the door.”

“I did but it says it doesn’t recognize me.

Bruce kicked off his slippers and walked across his dewy lawn in bare feet. “Lemme try. Hey Tiki, open up Jim’s door.”

“Right away, Bruce,” Tiki said. My front door clicked open.

“I got the premium package,” Bruce said with a wink. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as he walked back to his house. I went in and got my keys. I was going to have to think about what had just happened. One thing was clear though: I was going to need to upgrade to the premium package right away.