Short and sweet. Am, smoking in garage wearing slippers, robe, coat, nightie. Go in for more coffee and,.....I AM LOCKED OUT!!!!! What? I knocked on the door. I called the house phone several times. I called the Hunter's cell. knocked on the door some more. Went to the front door, (Hands were really cold by this time), and kicked at the bottom -I wear Ugg slippers in case you're wondering how a kick could make any noise. The dog was barking her head off all the while. Then I rang the hell out of the doorbell. Still locked out.
Went back into the garage. Was thinking I'd go to the neighbors, go potty and get another cup of coffee. But I just lit another cig. and sat there. After awhile, I get a call on my cell from The Hunter. He says, "If you're a good girl, I'll let you in." and he proceeds to laugh. He'd been in the shower. So, what? He didn't hear me? He couldn't hear Belle bark? And why the fuck did he lock me out? He said he was sorry, that he'd inadvertently locked the door. Really? I have lived there since 1983. I have only been locked out two other times. A couple months ago, he locked me out cuz he was mad at me. Then a couple weeks ago, he did it by "accident".
Here's the thing. Our house was built in the late 1800's. I don't know how old the locks are but I can say that the keys no longer work in both doors (old deadbolts that you can latch in a way that can be opened with a key, and if you are all home for the night, they can be double locked. So anyway, we don't use these deadbolts because,...well,..they're dead. The Hunter discovered a tiny bolt (it's actually adorable, I looked closely at the teeny tiny back plate or whatever it's called) and now he uses that. Again, this can only be done from the inside. Blah-blah-blah.
I will leave out the middle of the day. The morning was such a wonderful start. So,....to cap off a perfectly sucky day, I hear him on the phone telling my daughter we'd have Christmas here. In 10 days. We are hoarders x 2. He's putting in windows. He spent two days trying to get the trim off without succeeding. This also necessitated the purchase of another expensive tool. Well, that's besides the point. I have 5 tables. Yes, 5. One in the kitchen with three chairs. I have a leaf that I can put in and that puts The Hunter about one foot away from falling down the back stairs (hey, um,...opps,no.) and my chair about one foot away from the door opening to the living room. BTW, if we put additional chairs one one or both sides of us, there would be no room to pass through between the chair and the counter. One table is an (MY) antique. It's in the garage covered with filthy tools and stuff. There's the old wood one that I had set up in the music room with the cutest little Crystal lamp so I could play games and do puzzles or crafts with the kids. It's still there somewhere with another table that was The Hunter's mom's upended on top of it. And the chairs? Well my Victrola got shoved up against there so that The Hunter could tear down some paneling. How am I doing so far? Oh yeah. The final table. It has the legs removed and has been propped up against the love seat (that is covered with sleeping bags).
I'm thinking that if The Hunter could take all his crap off the picnic table that's in the garage, we could set that up in the yard. I know it would hold all of us. Or do you think it would be rude to serve cold food to people who are sitting on a snowy bench in 15 degree weather.
I know. It will all be fine, even if it isn't.
And apparently I am a liar!!!!! That wasn't very short and it wasn't very sweet.