Behind Closed Doors

Privacy is a good thing. I respect it and I hope other people respect mine. Yet, it's difficult for me. I've seen the oldies fall so I always have one ear tuned for disaster.

She buys an awful lot of bleach and carries it back to their end of the house. What is she bleaching? They burn candles. I'm constantly checking our smoke detectors. I don't want to invade their space but I get worried. I knock before entering.

Sometimes I close the door to my office; sometimes I close the door to my bedroom. But, for the most part, my doors are open.

We have a door between our back hallway and the garage. As all the workout girls will tell you, the knob is funky and it sticks. This morning, we couldn't get it to open. The husband saw the flash of panic and claustrophobia in my eyes. He brought me back to earth by saying, "You know, we can just go out another door."

Unless you're living in my home, it's none of my business what you do behind closed doors. As for the door knob that is making me crazy, my dad will fix it.