I'm stuck in the bedroom and can't get out
Last weekend, Carrie sequestered herself in the room formerly known as Caitlyn's bedroom to talk on the phone with one of her friends. Time passed, and I didn't hear anything from her, which isn't all that unusual, but then I heard a muffled call for help accompanied by the sound of a doorknob turning, over and over again. Katie went to investigate, and I listened as the two of them called out to each other through the door. "Is the door locked, Carrie?" "No." "Try turning the knob." "I tried that." "Try again." Twisting sound. "It's still not working." Jiggling sound. "How about now?" Twisting, jiggling, thumping sound. "Still doesn't work." Nervous laughter. "Am I going to be stuck in here forever?" Exasperated sigh. Jiggling, twisting, thumping, bumping. "The doorknob must be broken." At this point, I figured I might as well see if I could help. More back and forths through the door, more jiggling, more thumping and twisting, but the stupid door wouldn't work. "Guess I'll need a screwdriver," I muttered. Of course, my screwdriver wasn't in the toolshed where it belonged, and of course, no one had used it, so when I asked, "Who took my screwdriver and didn't put it back?" which is one of those questions you are taught to ask when you go to fatherhood school (where they teach you how to be a father) all I got in response was a bunch of blank stares (actually, only two - one from Katie and one from Connor since Carrie was still stuck in what was formerly known as Caitlyn's bedroom). Which made me even more frustrated, so I started grumbling and grabbed a different screwdriver that would work but wasn't going to be nearly as effective as the one I wanted, then proceeded to remove the knob from the door. This led to some tinkering and jiggling, and having Carrie try the knob again. Then I told her to remove her half, but she said she couldn't, so I told her to pull hard, and she said it was stuck, so I gave up and told her to climb out the window so I could climb in and see what I could see. Which she did, and I did, and I pulled the knob off (it was stuck because of the paint on the door) and once I did that, it was pretty easy to open the door and remove all the rest of the hardware. So now we have a knobless door, which I'm in no big rush to fix because I just don't feel a strong sense of urgency about it, plus Connor likes having the peephole so he can spy on his sister.
How dry I am
You would think that someone who was born in one of the hottest spots in the United States of America (Yuma, AZ) and who had spent her entire life (18+ years) living in a desert environment would know that it's important to drink water. And yet, my adorable, charming, and intelligent oldest daughter called us up complaining about feeling dizzy and light-headed and having tingling sensations in her fingers and toes. Of course, Katie immediately asked her about her diet, as in - "Are you eating and drinking enough?" - and was assured that Caitlyn was, indeed, eating and drinking well. So Katie drove down to the University to rescue poor li'l Caitlyn and brought her home, where Caitlyn proceeded to spend the next 24 hours moping around and looking pitiful and continuing to feel dizzy and light-headed. But she decided to soldier on and returned to her home away from home, but she didn't feel better so she went to Student Health, where they discovered that she was - can you see what's coming, because it's pretty darned obvious - dehydrated. Go figure.
A Miracle on Orange Grove Road
About two or three weeks ago, the clock in my classroom suddenly stopped working. I didn't particularly care, because I wear a watch, so I didn't do anything about it. One of the students running in the election simulation my 8th graders were participating in, though, decided to use it to her advantage and posted a sign saying, "Ellie will fix this clock if elected" on the clock, which I thought was pretty clever. Time passed (yes, time continues to pass even when a clock is broken, which seems pretty deep and philosophical, doesn't it?) and someone would occasionally mention the clock, but I didn't really give it much thought. And then today, because it was election day, I took down all the signs and posters, including the one covering the clock, and lo and behold, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a fully functional clock. And what's more, the time was correct. Now that is a tale for the ages.
A classic headline
Every once in awhile, I run across a headline that catches my eye. The best one I saw this week read: "Man's Pocketknife Kills Dog." I just hate it when pocketknives go all crazy and start stabbing man's best friend without provocation.
A boy named Adolph
Speaking of the newspaper, did you happen to see the story about a month ago where a family got upset because the bakery wouldn't make a birthday cake for their son? Pretty horrible of the bakery, wouldn't you say? Apparently, they had a problem with writing, "Happy Birthday, Adolph Hitler" on one of the cakes. I kid you not, these people named their kid (who looked like a pretty adorable little tyke, and not at all like a monstrous villain-of-the-ages) after a monstrous villain-of-the-ages. Just imagine if he someday became a superstar basketball player and made it to the NBA Finals, and after the big dramatic build-up, the announcer would say, "And starting at point guard, Adolph Hitler!" and the crowd would go wild and cheer like crazy. Or what if he grew up and did something heroic like pulled someone out of a burning building and was featured on the news and they would have to say, "Today, an ordinary man turned into a hero when Adolph Hitler of Spokane, Washington risked his life by…" Or what if he grew up and won the Nobel Prize in physics for some amazing discovery, and all the headlines would read "Hitler is a Hit in Physics." It just don't seem right.
Okay, that's all I've got for this edition, so until next time may your doorknobs continue to function, may your sons/daughters/siblings/significant others/distant acquaintances maintain adequate hydration, and may your clocks continue to tock (and tick).
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