So typical of a Bair yard work day. We're plugging away at a steady pace. Reeves is napping, so I know I only have a limited amount of time to help Bryant. I'm pulling weeds; he's edging the front walk. I hear a pop, glance at the front door and marvel that nothing broke. Well, I could only see the top half. Then I stood up, and that was when I saw the bottom. I got Bryant's attention, and he turned off the offending machine. That was when we heard it - the subtle, constant crackling of the bottom half of the storm door. It sounded like when they put a microphone into a nest of army ants, or when, in the movies, the hero is standing on a thin sheet of ice in the middle of a frozen lake, and the villain drops a rock onto the edge sending crackling shock waves straight to our hero. That's what we listened to for a good minute before we came to our senses and put a plastic bag over the drop zone.
CRASH!
The pane comes smashing down onto the bag, onto the porch, into the flower bed. There are tiny pieces of glass everywhere! We had about another hour of naptime left, and it took at least that much time to clean it up because, of course, it's glass, and we have a toddler. Millions of tiny glass pieces and Reeves would not mix. We swept, we picked up, we wiped, and finally, Bryant blew it all off. We had to take the door off. I'll have to figure out what I need to do to get it replaced. We're out of town next week. Oy ve! The good news is Reeves did not wake up through any of it. The bad news was, Bryant had to finish the yardwork himself because as soon as we finished cleaning up the glass, and I came in and showered, our prince arose from his afternoon slumber.
