The Bathroom Door

I guess it was fitting that when I came home Friday after school, after this rather hard week, there was a two inch hole in the bathroom door and vague, conflicting stories of brotherly wrongs and something involving a folding chair.  As far as I can figure, Joseph got mad at Peter, picked up a folding chair, chased Peter, who ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, after which the folding chair slammed into the bathroom door.  Silas was in the other bathroom at the time.  We won’t even get into what happened during the minute I was in the bathroom before church this morning.  I guess parents don’t get bathroom breaks.

But life goes on.  I patched the door with cardboard and chaulking paste, or whatever you call that stuff.  Probably not a good selling point if we decide to move.  We patched up our family relationships.  We discussed the cost of doors in comparison to allowances, and the desirability of avoiding future holes in things.  And that was that.

Today there was an e-mail from Kate.  She mentioned other paintings that I might like, if I was interested.  I gave her the link to The Year of 42 on, so she can at least see what the cover looks like.  And I asked her whether she’s planning to come to our church on Nov. 18.  I have a feeling we’ll meet face to face one of these days.  It’s just taking a while.

Incidentally, did you know that doors are hollow?  At least some doors are.  Our bathroom door is.  It looks solid, but it’s actually just two thin pieces that seem to be connected with some sort of internal honey comb type structure.  Interesting.  Who would have known.


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