The door locks after all
I’m in upstate NY to visit my mom for her 65th birthday. It’s been great so far. It’s always pleasant to come back to this house I spent some formative years in. One of the things I always remembered about this house is that none of the doors ever latched. The house was built in the 20s or 30s, so I always just accounted this to age. My bedroom door never shut, my mom’s bedroom door never really shut, the bathroom door downstairs never really shut, the other bathroom door shut like crazy. Scarily so. Like “Oh shit, I just trapped myself in the bathroom, I’m going to have to call the fire department” shut.
The other other bathroom door (the house has four bathrooms, and only three bedrooms) also never shut, but since it is a little bigger than the other two bathrooms, I couldn’t hold the door shut with my foot or hand while I was going. Going to the bathroom. Going to the bathroom in the bathroom. Urinating. You get it. It was always just a few inches out of reach. When I was younger, I would worry that a cat would push the door open while I was on the toilet, and someone would walk upstairs and see me, and I’d be…. on the toilet, I guess. Being embarrassed. Oh fear, you irrational creature you!
Today I was in this bathroom, and I noticed that the door had a deadbolt.
I lived in this house for 5 years.
I was shocked. I could shut the door after all! Amazing!
“Mom, can you believe this? I’m retarded. I JUST NOW realized this door has a lock.”
“It does?”
She’s lived here for 15 years.
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