Matt and I keep the bedroom door closed, so that the cats don't molest my clothing and bedspread, leaving a trail of cat hair behind. This morning I learned the dangers of having a push-button lock on your bedroom door. We're still trying to figure out who is responsible, but I do know one thing: After my shower, I couldn't get dressed because the bedroom door was locked. I tried jamming a pen in the little hole on the outside, and I even tried sliding an old atm card down the space between the door and the frame. Nothing worked. It was time to channel MacGyver.
Our house has 2 bedrooms, which sit side by side, and they "share" a closet. When you look into the closet for one room, you realize that you're looking at half a closet. You can see over the wooden barrier, into the other half of the closet, and into the other room. I think at one time, the two bedrooms were a walk-thru of sorts.
So, Matt boosted me, wearing only a bathrobe, up to the shelf in the closet of the room that we could still access. I managed to turn myself around so that I wouldn't have to dive face first out of the other side, and did this cramped scoot sortof thing until I got to the other side. I looked down - man that's a ways up for someone who's afraid of heights! I started to slide down, and about halfway there, I realized that if I were to continue, I would end up with a bunch of hangers in my face, which could prove painful. I actually managed to pull myself back up onto the closet shelf, leaned over, and started removing clothing from the closet, and throwing it on the floor. I found a box on the shelf, which I proceeded to drop on the floor, so I wouldn't have to drop as far. Then I turned around again, and braced my feet on either side of the door frame. I scootched myself down with my feet, until my arms and chin were the only thing holding me to the shelf, then dropped.
It was a good morning.
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