Another Learning Experience - Home Repairs

Years ago when I moved into my first house, I was just renting, my father gave me some basic tools for Christmas. Hammer, pliers and a couple of screwdrivers. I was able to hang pictures but had never tried anything more. Every once in a while I would decide to "fix" something minor rather than call for help. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Dad had to come over and bail me out. Finally he told me, nicely, to please call him before I tried to fix it.

This was OK till he moved and I was on my own. By that time, I owned my own home and had to do the repairs having no landlord or Father to call on. So I bought a couple of fix-it books and started on my journey. I was actually pretty successful with what I tried.

By now I had added a few more tools to my hand-me-down toolbox and Dad had given me his old drill when he bought a new one. I kept trying to talk him into buying a new circular saw but he never would. I can't imagine why!

One of my repair jobs came as the result of an argument my daughter and I had. I don't even remember what it was about now. I was a single parent and she was a teenager. Nuff said. Anyway, I was so mad at her that I sent her to her room and after fuming a few more minutes I went to my room and slammed the door! Well, that stupid door hit the jamb trim and popped it off and went right on through the opening about 6 inches. So now I am stuck in my bedroom and I can't get out.

Believe me, I tried to figure out anything rather than call my daughter for help. The nails holding the trim were all still in the jamb bent out so I couldn't pull the door back through. The door wouldn't go out any further. I couldn't even climb out the window because everything was still locked and I couldn't get back in and my keys were in the kitchen. (I've since learned to keep my purse and keys and cell phone in the bedroom with me). All my tools were down the basement. (No, I don't keep them in the bedrom now. There is a limit to what I can get in there).

So, I had to call my daughter. I told her she could come out of her room long enough to get the hammer for me but that if she so much as cracked a smile she would be grounded for a month. She came out and managed not to smile when she handed me the hammer. I sent her back to her room while I got out of my room and fixed the damage. Fortunately, the trim popped off in one piece and was not damaged. I just pulled the bent finishing nails out of the jamb and nailed it back on.

By that time I was over being mad and told my daughter she could come out of her room. She came out and sat down and looked at me and said, "Now can we laugh?"