I Miss Doors

We are getting all the interior doors replaced in our house.

The old doors were hollow and stained a orangey color that hasn’t been popular since the Rat Pack was alive and well.

The knobs were old and didn’t function anymore and had a little flip lock that was so easy to accidentally flip and lock yourself out of a room.

Or lock yourself into your room if you are Ellie and 2 years old

or 12 (happened 2 weeks ago).

To get all the interior doors replaced in our house they first took out all the old doors.

Then painted the new doors.

Which left us with no doors in between coats.

Bathroom included.

No doors.

Our only bathroom upstairs sits at the top of the landing which makes one VERY vulnerable and visible to anyone standing at the front door.

Especially when your front door has windows.

And when said bathroom’s toilet sits just on 

the other side of where a door used to be.

I had to “spot” McDaniel take a shower in a bathroom with no door and painters still in the house. And by “spot” I mean, let her know if the painters were coming up the stairs and let them know they could not come up the stairs.

And she had to “spot” me use the restroom holding up a too narrow beach towel in the doorway that she shook around too much because she was laughing.

We’ve been without doors for 3 days now.

I think if we were Girl Scouts, we would’ve earned 

the “No Doors” patch by now.

I miss doors!

It’s odd not to be able to close your bedroom door to change

or watch TV after the girls have gone to sleep.

I feel extremely exposed.

And loud.

We begged and got the bathroom door rehung while the paint was a teence still wet.

We did not care one bit.

Because we’ve learned that we love doors around here.

I’ve had to keep the dog on a leash more because I can’t keep him away from the workers without doors.

I feel like there isn’t a room in this house that I can hide in during the day to read or write.

Why?

No doors.

The extreme conditions of the girls’ rooms cannot be hidden from me right now and I’m about ready to throw a fit about it.

Why?

Apparently I have extremely messy daughters.

And no doors.

I have such a new appreciation for the phrase, “Shut the front door!”

And for those people that live in one room huts with no doors at all.

But for lots of reasons, 

not just because they don’t have doors.

I am discovering just how private a person I am.

And how not private Monte is.

He does not seem that bothered by the no doors thing.

I keep telling him that even Outhouses have doors.

But for a guy that once went to the bathroom by the dumpster behind a McDonald’s because the men’s room was closed for cleaning, the whole concept was lost on him.

I’ve been very patient

(wait…have I?) 

with this whole construction process.

My friend Carol did tell me to accept that my life was going to feel like camping

but tents have doors!

Or flaps, 

whatever, 

they still zip shut.

But I will learn to accept this 

(said with fist in the air)

just like I’ve learned to live without 

filtered water, 

ice, 

a kitchen, 

a bathroom on the first floor, 

real plates and glasses and utensils, 

the ability to keep anything clean 

and getting to choose what radio station the workers listen to at high volume…

It’s going to be great in the end.

It’s going to be great in the end.

It’s going to be great in the end.