Changing Doorknobs is for the Birds

Tim and I are a lot of great things, but handy men we aren't. About eleven days ago the doorknob to front door fell off (and by front door, I mean the only door to the outside). I simply walked through late on a Saturday night, and when I took my hand away the doorknob came off with it.

So that Monday I put in a maintenance request with our apartment, because that is the joy and happiness of being renters. A week and a half passed and there were no signs of it getting fixed.  We used the doorknob like a key, just attach it to the door and turn to be let in. We carefully propped it up so you couldn't tell it wasn't attached before we left. It was inconvenient, but not hindering.

But yesterday I asked Tim to come outside to help me rehang a bird feeder that a squirrel had knocked down. We we went to go back inside and the doorknob had completely fallen off on the inside. There was nothing to turn. We were essentially locked out of our house.

Tim walked to the office building to check on the status of our maintenance request. We thought about leaving, but all of the keys were inside. When the maintenance man finally did let us inside (on the first try with a good pair of pliers), we knew we would just leave, because Tim had to eat lunch and I had to go to work, and there wouldn't be time before the doorknob got fixed.

Except, of course, that Theron finished fixing the doorknob before we could gather up purses/keys/wallets.