Tuesday night, I called my parents and talked to my dad. A couple of years earlier I'd bought a down blanket, but it had been too warm to use in my old bedroom and I'd dumped it in my parents' basement where it sat all through last winter. Now, though, my new bedroom feels colder at night and I wanted that down blanket for the bed to keep my feet warm. I described the blanket in detail, including it's color and the type of box it was in. My dad kept asking if I had it at my house and I kept insisting that it was still in their basement. Finally, he agreed to look for it and I said I'd pick it up on my way home from work Wednesday afternoon.
I stopped by yesterday and I barely had my coat off when my dad asks if the blanket was quilted. It was. He asks if it's blue on one side and pink on the other. It is not. It's all a raspberry color, I tell him. He frowns. Asks several other questions about the blanket and I'm thinking, what's the deal? I described it yesterday on the phone. It soon becomes apparent that he had searched my linen closet in my house.
I repeat what I said several times on the phone the night before--the blanket is in a box in your basement. It's not in my house.
He finally says that they looked in the basement and they couldn't find it. Then, and this is the reason I'm telling this story, he confesses that when he checked the closet in the spare bedroom, he'd yanked the door off its track and COULDN'T GET IT BACK ON AGAIN!
Yes, that's right, my dad searched my house for a blanket that was in his basement and he ripped the left closet door completely off. I checked it out when I went home and there it is, leaning against the closet door that remains in place.
I didn't say much, but this irritated me for several reasons. First, it appears he spent more time looking in my house than in his. Second, I've been waiting for something like 6 months for him to fix my rocking bar stools and at least 4 months for him to put up the shower rod in my guest bathroom. Do we want to start a pool on how much nagging I'm going to have to do to get my closet door put back where it belongs? Third, why was he yanking the door that hard anyway? These bifold doors aren't that sturdy and I'm always very careful to open them slowly.
The only thing I did say was, why were you looking at my house? I told you I didn't have it. I'd already checked my linen closet before I'd called him and that was absolutely the only place it would be. I guess I should be grateful he didn't yank that bifold door off its track since it's right there in the hallway and it would bug me every time I saw it--which is often.
To make a long story short, I went into my parents' basement, looked around, found the box and retrieved my down blanket. This all took less than 2 minutes despite my mom hollering down the stairs for that entire length of time that she wanted me to look at some other box she'd found and then arguing with me when I told her I'd already found the right box. Sigh.
Sometimes, my parents drive me nuts. It was such a simple request and it ended up being an ordeal that won't be over until I get my closet door fixed.
