Walk THROUGH The Door!
It’s Monday morning. Everyone is trying to get ready and get out of the house on time….
Today, my son broke the lamp as he was leaving the house. How? How is this even possible? See, this is why we can’t have nice things. Seriously. See, this is why I never had lamps until now. While the lamp sits near the door, it’s not like you have to walk around it to go THROUGH the door. I should mention my son does not walk in a straight line. He walks in some sort of haphazard Dennis the Menace craze rivaling any Six-Flags roller coaster with twists and loops and pirouettes comparable to the best ballet dancers. I can only imagine him opening the door, then remembering to watch for animals, relief washing over him that none got out, locking the door, doing a pirouette - his backpack hits the lamp, lamp falls over, lamp breaks. Why? Seriously? Why the pirouettes?
What is it about doors that are complicated for my children to understand? For reasons unfathomable to me, my kids have yet to develop the large and fine motor skills, as well as the necessary analytical skills to work the friggen front door in a manner which is socially acceptable. Yet, they scream like the house is on fire when the wi-fi is out and tell me how I'm doing it wrong when I try to troubleshoot the problem, but I digress. My kids are almost teenagers and this simple task is one they should have learned, if not mastered by now. Sometimes, my kids make me question my sanity, my reason for being, my motherhood. If I can’t teach them how to work the friggen door, how in the world will I ever expect them to become active, productive members of society?
There are three SIMPLE steps to work the friggen door.
Step 1 - Open the door.
Step 2 - Walk THROUGH the door.
Step 3 - Close the door.
Not open the door and stand there waiting, wondering “hmm, should I close the door? I’ll only be here a second.” Or - hastily tear the door open, cross the threshold and SLAM! the door behind you. It is not open door, close door, open door, close door, open door, close door - Oh wait, I forgot what I was doing.
- Mom: You were NOT born in a barn! I WAS THERE!
- Mom: CLOSE THE DOOR! Please don’t SLAM the door!
It does not mean closing the door partially. Sometime, my kids like to open the door and stand there in the doorway frozen, paralyzed by some bout of indecision as though moving through the door would create some sort of existential crisis. I’m not sure what this is all about. Maybe it’s some sort of residual womb effect that has yet to be studied by scientists. They don’t know if they want out or in and with the trauma of birth imprinted somewhere deep in the depths of their brains, the door presents a certain instinctual anxiety in which fight or flight are not present, but FREEZE is the thing to do. My kids, while standing in the doorway locked in their indecision of “In-OR-Out” will simply push the door to within inches of actually being closed (they think this counts as closed). This presents other challenges for our household. While the kids are distracted by their indecision, the animals sniff out fear and lurch ever closer. Lurking like bottom feedings, close to the floor, slinking out of sight, hiding behind and under furniture, waiting for their moment to strike. And in a moment of unmatched speed: DART! DAMMIT! The cat got out!
- Mom: Don’t let the animals out!
- Mom: In OR out! Choose ONE!
- Mom: CLOSE THE DOOR!
And so it is this is how the lamp broke on a Monday morning trying to work a simple door.