As a not-woman, Hick fails to see a problem with closing the door to the walk-in closet in the master bathroom. He must be going through a mid-life crisis. He never closed the closet door before, in all the fourteen years we have dwelt in the House That Hick Built. Now he seals that sucker tighter than a pressurized submarine portal. For reasons that Mystery, Inc., with the help of Velma's entire family of Mensa-recruits, could not ascertain.
Maybe Hick does not like the gaping dark orifice behind him in the mirror as he readies himself for work at 5:30 a.m. Perhaps he's had a bad experience chanting "Bloody Mary" three times while gazing into that mirror. Or...he might just want to accentuate the recently-stained frame around the door by putting an actual door in the middle of it.
As a woman, I have grown used to years of easy access to my clothes. After showering, I simply walk into my walk-in closet and grab a stunning outfit, (perhaps velvet, as once suggested by George Costanza), to drape myself in for a day of educating the citizens of tomorrow. Now I find my easy access blocked. Blocked like YouTube on a public school computer network. Simply elbowing the door does not make it open. But it does give me an elbow abrasion. To avoid injury, I must turn the door handle to gain entrance.
Notice I said, "Handle." Not doorknob. Because the one thing you want throughout the new house when you are moving in with a three-year-old and an about-to-be-born baby is a classy French door handle lever thingy instead of a round, turny doorknob. Why not? You know that your children will be refined art-lovers, simply ecstatic that their rustic cedar home contains French door levers, and will never, ever, yank on those handles repeatedly, like a parched drifter jacking the handle at the town water pump, or a hobo racing a hand cart down the tracks, until the insides of the French door levers hoist a white flag and retire, forever, from latching doors. And of course, your classy French door levers would never poke a toddler in the eye, or snag sleeves or hoods or backpack straps as an innocent victim walked by.
I suppose I could ask Hick why he closes the closet door now. But it's much more satisfying to fling it open and leave it, like we did in the salad days.
6 comments:
I can't argue with a woman willing to quote and take fashion tips from George Costanza.
Perhaps Hick wants to build a desk in thaat walk-in closet...and then he can build a shelf in the desk for his alarm clock, so the door needs to be shut for him to get some shut-eye?
Or maybe he has just been conned into wearing a puffy pirate shirt, and he wants to feel the fabric caress his arms in the privacy of the closet--without getting caught or filmed for a television talk show?
Who knows why men do what they do...
I, on the other hand am always complaining that he leaves doors and drawers open.
Stephen,
Of course not. I've got hand.
**************
Sioux,
Or perhaps he found a Farbman at the auction, and wants to make sure his drawers full of sleeping Japanese tourists are not disturbed by the light.
He'd better not be in there treating his body like an amusement park!
************
Linda,
I have nothing against closed doors, except for that one. Because I've grown accustomed to it being conveniently open.
Maybe we could compromise, and Hick could put in a screen door. Then he can have it closed, and all I have to do is push it open. Of course, when he starts mulching his azaleas, and the neighborhood kids hit him with a baseball, I'm sure he will reconsider the closet screen door.
As I sit here wondering if he who fancies himself a carpenter will ever finish the bathroom, I feel most qualified to tell you that even builder H has no idea why he is now shutting doors.
Kathy,
I have a feeling you're right. He can't be doing it just to annoy me. That would involve too much effort, with first concocting a plan, and then carrying it out. Consistently.
Post a Comment