It’s been awhile since my wife and I have had any time alone without kids where we weren’t both exhausted. So you can probably imagine what it was like last night when we both had energy and the kids were in bed. Back in our youthful prekid days, no hinged door was safe from our tandem activities.
Tonight, this door’s fate was chosen.
Unfortunately it wasn’t chosen by my wife and I’s physical routine. We spent our extra energy on the couch, in the living room, six feet apart, watching Netflix.
Our daughter, who must have snuck out of bed, must have had a lapse in door swing projection as she righteously showed the bifold that she was not to be it’s prisoner. Somehow she did it in stealth mode and came around the corner with a slat in hand and said “Um, this fell out of your closet door”
Walking around the corner, we surveyed the damage. “Yes dear, that slat did fall out. So did twenty others”
My wife became giddy at first to have a reason to go to the restore (that sells nothing but absolute garbage if you ask me), but then she remembers the virus: the reason we were practicing safe quarantine relations six feet apart glued to Netflix and eating two months rationing of snacks in one sitting. Oh, and also that the restore is closed. Is it closed? It damn well better be! Please have it be closed!
Wait, what if I complete a Hail Mary and fix the feeble figure of a door? This is something I’d never ever do for a customer, so get that idea out of your head right now! But this is an extreme emergency that might prevent me from having to spend forty dollars on a broken and warped door at habitat and then have to rehabilitate it with another twenty dollars worth of supplies.
It may be awhile longer before we get that alone time, but when we do, this door won’t be an issue thanks to industrial glue guns and five minute epoxy.
I fixed a bifold door without pulling my hair out. What’s your superpower?
Stay safe out there, and stay away from that restore!