I took so long trying to come up with a clever title for this post last night that I finally just stole Fox’s made up term for “New Girl’s” Zooey Deschanel and made it even more confusing and nonsensical.
Okay, so last night, Lindsay and I decided to take advantage of the ridiculously pleasant weather and walk to one of our favorite ice cream spots, “The Cow”, which is roughly 1.5 miles from our house, when we happened upon a screen door a-door-ned with a “Free! Free!” sticker. It just so happens that we’ve been in the market for one, so we can show off our recently painted front door. Not only did this thing look to be about the right size, but it also matched our front porch perfectly. The only problem? We discovered it at the tail end of our journey to The Cow. My practical wife suggested heading back to the house after The Cow to grab the car, but I, being completely impractical and constantly feeling the need to balance out my less manly activities (this blog, for instance) with real, sweaty grunt work, volunteered to carry the thing back on our return trip. After all, why risk someone else snatching it up? Plus, a little exercise never hurt anyone, right?
Wrong. Because of the width, I basically had to hold the stupid thing slightly in front of me for the entire 1.5 mile trek back to the house. Not only did my arms feel like they were on fire, but it had the added effect of me looking like some weird thief, or worse, a protester using the door as some kind of metaphor. It didn’t help that a good chunk of our route home consisted of a busier than usual Main Street, full of confused onlookers. But in the end, my arms remained in tact and the door, with a few tweaks, looks like it may just work out. But that’s another post. Until then, I leave you with this a-door-kable shot of yours truly, post delivery. I’ll probably go the air conditioned car route next time:)