The Door

Back when we lived in Everett our cats used to dig and howl at our closed bedroom door trying to get in. When sometimes yelling and throwing things at the door didn't scare them away, Ian would go up to the door and pound on it really loud to scare them away (it usually worked for about 10 minutes). We learned to coat the floor and door and door jam with plastic to keep them from damaging the apartment, and it's worked. They leave the door alone now.

Last Sunday night I was doodling around getting ready for a trip to the coast with the 6th graders to Camp Loma Mar. Ian had gone to bed, and instead of shutting the hall light off he closed the bedroom door to block the light. I was finally done packing and was approaching the bedroom door to come to bed. I was about 4 feet from it, Mande meowed at me from about half way to the door when all of a sudden KABAAM!

I just about jumped out of my skin, Mande ran for it and I'm battling being furious and trying to figure out why Ian had hit the door so hard, Mande had not been scratching at it. After a few seconds the door opened and Ian blinked into the light. I asked him an exasperated and angry question. He was exasperated back at me because he had actually run INTO the door, forgetting in his sleep that he had closed it, on his way to the bathroom.

After I calmed down I was almost rolling on the floor laughing (he didn't appreciate it very much) at the irony of it. We were all right there at the same time. Poor Ian, the door got his nose and knees pretty good. Even now I'm chuckling.