Damage to the doorframe.
Yesterday I came home and it was clear that the room had been rearranged. The rug had been moved, not just a couple of inches, but clear across the room. The table with files on top had been moved vertically with several piles of movies on top. Our two dogs and new puppy lie on the sofa, all in a row, exhausted, with guilty looks on their faces. And Barton was tipped back in his wheelchair just cattycorner- the doggie gate strewn across the kitchen floor.
Okay- and what happened here? And Barton smiles. The wheelchair repairman had been here, and like a comedy of errors, the dogs had started barking as he went to the front door to ring the doorbell. Barton’s wheels got stuck on the rug, hence dragging it clear across the room. Once Barton got his chair unstuck, the repairman had come to the backdoor, and Barton knocked the doggie gate off in the kitchen. I wonder what the wheelchair repairman must of thought- he knows our crazy antics pretty well, so it would be nothing new.
It was like the time where I came home from an overnight out-of-town trip and Barton was “supposed” to be watching the dogs. When I walked up the ramp, I knew disaster had struck as Bear and Basho had ripped apart a bed comforter and had strewn stuffing all over the porch and living room. Thinking that something tragic had happened, I ran to the office, where Barton was working on his computer, completely oblivious to the disaster that lay just outside.
Or when I came from to find the office doorframe literally sideways. Hmm. We’ve banged ripped nails back into the wall, pulled splinters of wood off, and finally Barton just ripped one side clear off.
As Barton told me the comedic story, I picked up the remaining pieces, moved the rug and furniture back to their original places, and spent a good fifteen minutes pondering how to put the doggie gate back together. Later, I would find a piece of wood, in the kitchen, ripped from the door frame.
I’ve gotten used to coming home to find pieces of wood dislodged from their original place. It is the consequence of having a home too small for a motorized wheelchair. We still haven’t repaired the dents in the hallway. But, it is a home well lived and well loved.
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