Shut The Front Door!
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The first time I heard this phrase it was explosively thrown at me by one or both of my parental units as a kid. I’m pretty sure the entire hotor cool air that we had going at the time would not all be entirely sucked out in one fail swoop and we’d have to start the process from scratch. However, my parents believed that this was a true phenomenon and it would render our HVAC system instantly dead and it would be all of our fault because we left the front door open for a few minutes.
Funny thing, I found myself saying the same thing as a parent when one of the kids would be standing at the door talking to a friend or boy/girlfriend and they’d leave the front door open. I’d have an out-of-body experience as I unbelievably would hear myself say, “Shut the front door!” When I’d come to, after my out of body experience, I’d shake my head and curse my parents some.
Now, I don’t worry about it so much but the Professor does. As I have aged, physically not mentally, just sayin’, I find that the silly things that used to bother me or cause me to have an out-of-body experience, don’t really make a blip on my life radar. To the Professor, I’m entirely too laid back and don’t seem to give a crap about anything. Not true sweet Professor or I’d not continue to be married to you now sit down and keep quiet!
I’ve always had a thread of mellowness however, it had to be hidden for 16 years because it was not allowed but that’s okay because I have it back now and it’s not a thread so much anymore but a big ass rope, according to the Professor, or an anaconda depending on which day you ask him. I drive the man insane yet he loves the stew outta me nonetheless, thank Goodness!
Yesterday was a day of irony, hence this blog today.
My mom has bought a house that she wants to flip and hopefully make a profit. So, in the spirit of destruction, I found myself at this house yesterday destroying the old things to make way for the new. We had a whole crew there: my mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, my 4 nephews, my son, my daughter, and me. The Professor somehow got out of it but that’s okay.
Although it kicked my ass as I found myself out in the heat emptying the flower beds to make way for new and way better looking foliage, then in the house tearing out carpet, padding, linoleum, back splash tile, and beat up hard woods, as well as sweeping, I had such a ball sweating, cussing, and destroying with my family.
Here’s the funny part . . .
My Ma had the AC turned way down because we were all sweating our butts off and the front door kept opening and closing as we carried things to the dumpster. Several hundred times, someone would leave the front door open and I’d see my Ma wander over and shut it, like 6000 times in the first 2 of the 5 hours we were there.
At some point the poor woman gave up and announced that the front door could remain open as she had just plum given up . . . WHAAAAT?
I had to poke fun at her at this but the pained look and the consistent glancing at the ajar front door made me feel a bit bad for her because it was killing her. On the 4th hour, the door was finally shut because we had demo’d most of what was causing it to remain open and I noticed a calm in my mom and less rubber necking at the front door.
Love my Ma, y’all, she’s a nut . . . so is my Dad! I’m so blessed!
Well, if killing my body for 5 hours tearing things out and cleaning up wasn’t enough, I became the unknown host of a surprise party for my newly turned 16-year-old daughter. I thought the surprise party was going to be at our local Mexican restaurant, Rosie’s, but as the texts started coming in from her friends, it became grossly obvious that I wasn’t told all of the details.
My OT clinic, God bless it, turned into a party room full of streamers, balloons, food, drink, lots of teenage bodies wearing outfits my mom would have killed me in, high ass heals, perfume, lots of hair, big boys that looked like men, and tons and tons of waiting cell phones as she made her way back from Rosie’s with just a few of her friends not realizing what was waiting for her at home . . . it was a surprise party for me as well.
As she came through the clinic door, God bless her, she was mauled with the word ‘SURPRISE’ followed by a paparazzi frenzy and yes, she left the door open because of the mauling. The words were going through my mind about that door but I was not going to say anything as she was being attacked and shutting that door was impossible and that line clearly belongs with my parents not me.
Prior to her arrival, I was helping her friends set up in my precious happy-place clinic when I hear a pop and feel the sickening sensation of cold sticky-ness hit me in my shin and run down into my flip-flop. It scared the crap out of us and then we realized that one of the Sprite 2 liters had burst open and was all over the place, great, sugar in my converted garage equals lots of ants and roaches.
As I told the girls not to worry, inside I my head I was screaming, I got them towels, a mop, and a bucket and they cleaned it up, bless them. I was done at this point, I couldn’t stand by and watch my clinic get destroyed. So, I went in to sit and watch football with the Professor.
Long story short, when the Professor is not pre-informed about something, he gets a little stabby so this surprise party had him waaaaaaaaay outta sorts and the next thing I knew, he is putting on his tennis shoes and says he is going for a unpresidented (my word) walk as he has had enough. He has done nothing but eat the pizza that I had ordered for the occasion at the last-minute so I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
Off he goes but not before he mentions that I didn’t go to my WW meeting and that I can’t give up because I have worked so hard to lose my weight . . . ladies, do I even need to explain to you what this does to our insides? In my head, I was thinking, “Get out of this house right now before I wrap an entire pizza around your head and suffocate you. This WW stuff is my business not yours and if you manage to eat your way out of that pizza before you die, then go on your damn walk and don’t let the front door hit you in the ass and also, don’t forget to SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!”
The ‘double’ surprise party went on until about 9:30 pm and somewhere in that time, the Professor wandered back in from his walk. I didn’t speak to him because I was afraid of what would come out of it. While he was gone though, I text him that I am making it crystal clear that my WW and my weight is none of his damn business and off-limits forever! I know he pulled this shit because he was ticked about the double surprise party but how childish. I love that man but I swear to the good Lord, I will beat his ass with a pizza if he brings it up again.
Here’s the stinkin’ irony of the entire day . . .
I didn’t sleep so well last night because I was still ticked. The Professor fell asleep on the back porch swing I think, hell, I didn’t even care at this point, and ended up in bed at around 3 am, which woke me up yet again. At 7:30 am my eyes popped open and I was done so I get up, get put together for clean-up from demo day yesterday at 1:30 pm today and as I open our bedroom door to the family room, there is a stark change in temperature and my 2 dogs are gone. Oh shit!
As I round the corner, do I need to even tell you what I see?
Yes, the stinkin’ font door is wide open, I have no idea how long this has been this way but I suspect the Professor is the culprit. Fear tightens in my chest at where my sweet dogs could be and as I peer out the front door fearful they are gone for good, I am instantly relieved that I see them just a few doors down terrorizing a squealing chipmunk. Whew!
I whistle for them and like the good dogs they are, they come running. Thank God they are safe.
Who knew the front door would cause so much to talk about, but it does. The front door is the entrance into your private dwelling, the place where you laugh, cry, wanna kill someone with pizza, throw surprise parties you didn’t know you’d be hosting, loud music, parana children, and much much more.
With all that has been said here how funny is it that I often hear folks say, “You are welcome anytime . . . the door is always open.”
SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!
Love y’all!!♥
