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Door Slams Unhinge Mom
One sunny Saturday, being laid up with the
flu and unable to do much else, I kept a careful count of how
often the back door was opened and closed. The final toll came
to 412 times. In one day.
Considering that I was contagiously
out-of-commission, the baby was unwillingly confined to the
playpen, and Husband (away at work) made his lone entrance
through the front door that evening, that left 103 slams
per son. One hundred three.
Breaking it down ever further, each boy of
mine was awake approximately 14 hours that day, so apparently
each used the back door on the average of 7 ˝ times per hour, or
once every eight minutes. Every eight minutes. Each son.
If each of the four boys used the back door
every eight minutes, then clearly someone was passing in or out
of that portal at two-minute intervals. All day.
Upon closer investigation, I discovered
that approximately half of these trips involved the carrying of
an object from one location to another. Apparently 206 items
therefore were in the process of being shuffled about. If half
of these items were brought into the house, then
obviously 103 different pieces of equipment were misplaced in
strategic locations within my domain. If a like number of
articles were also being toted out of the house, then
most likely there were 103 pieces of miscellany scattered around
the yard, garage and driveway. In the driveway. For Husband to
run over.
One-third of the remaining 206 trips
involved foraging for food; hence, the refrigerator and two
kitchen cabinets were each scrutinized on 35 occasions that day,
or roughly nine times per boy. One hundred five grocery
inspections. Not including meals.
The remainder of the to-and-fro journeys
consisted of satisfying a quest for knowledge. If 69 questions
were asked and answered, “No,” then re-negotiated and answered,
“Because I SAID SO!” then obviously 138 queries were dealt with,
to the extreme dissatisfaction of everyone concerned.
I spent the next day in bed too. I have
never been very good at math.
(C) Copyright 1974 Joan Wester Anderson,
www.joanwanderson.com
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