Another Day in Paradise

So I have 2 very rambunctious boys. Sometimes things get broken at my house.

A few days ago they broke the doorknob in my bathroom. The door would no longer lock or shut completely.

The TO is not the most handy person in the world.

Which is to say he hires out everything from painting to major renovations.

His theory? He’d rather work overtime and pay someone to do the manual labor.

Nonetheless, I begged and pleaded and may have even {falsely} promised sexual favors in order to get him to install a new door knob.

That lock was my only insurance of peace and privacy in the house.

The TO tried, people. He really did.

But it turns out that the hole was too small for the new knob. {TWSS}

He didn’t find this out till AFTER he took the old one out so I was left with a gaping hole in my bathroom door.

I quickly hillbillied up a solution which involved opening a vanity drawer to use as a barricade. I covered the hole with my bathrobe which I held in place with a mouthwash bottle.

‘Cuz I’m fancy and resourceful.

*If I could do the MS paint thing there would be a cute little drawing here illustrating my ghetto bathroom security system.*

This little situation lasted for about a week till I finally got our handy man out to the house to install new doorknobs upstairs. I had all the doorknobs replaced while he was here.

‘Cuz, like I said, I’m fancy and I’m tired of living in a retro house.

A stylish retro house might be fantabulous but my house is retro in a weird mix of 1970’s avocado green and 1980’s pink/country kitsch.


All was good and fine till last night when the screws somehow popped out of the bathroom door’s hinge.

Apparently, they are stripped – leaving me once again with a non-functioning bathroom door.

This time the door has to remain wide open as the bottom hinge is still attached. Moving the door may bend it.

The door is precariously leaning against my linen closet so I can’t get to anything in it.

Because this is my life we’re talking about, in the midst of all this I started my period.

Guess where all of my necessary supplies are located?

What have I been doing for the last hour?

Searching through my purses and glove compartment for stray tampons.

And planning my imaginary divorce.

*No, I can’t run to the store because the kids are asleep and The TO is still at work.

*No, The TO won’t pick up feminine hygiene products for me on his way home. But he will probably find the time to go to the beer store.

*Hence, the imaginary divorce planning.