The door to our master bath was noisy. Past tense is intentional. Now it closes like a whisper.
Who cares? you ask. HE does. The husband.
The spring semester began this week. That means I wake up a full hour before my bedmate. I creep around in the dark, take my shower, eat breakfast, apply make-up, make a lunch, and blowdry my hair before he opens his eyes. It’s okay. I’m not complaining. I’m a morning person. He’s not.
But here’s the thing. Every weekday it isn’t my hairdryer that wakens sleeping beauty because we have worked out a peace treaty on that point: I blowdry my tresses in the other bathroom. But I won’t give up my shower, makeup, and dressing in our master bath and master closet. So he suffers from the noise. But, I swear, I am SO quiet. I barely breathe. What the heck wakes him? I will tell you.
The doorknob makes a click sound.
But not anymore. Today, it got McGyvered.
Truly, I should take a picture for you. But indulge me as I attempt to describe the Silence of the Doorknob.
The little metal stub that moves in and out when you turn the knob is now stationary, locked in the IN position by a piece of metal which was cut from the lid of a can of chili for mini-hotdogs. The lid of the can was cut into a perfect rectangle and two screw holes were drilled into it before it was installed.
But, you say, how will the door stay closed without the IN-and-OUT nubby? I will tell you.
A magnet was inserted into the hole in the door jam. It is held there by blue painter’s tape and is strong enough to latch onto the chili-can-top and hold the door closed.
We tested it. It is silent. Hey, Monday morning? Bring it! The Lannis are ready for you.
(How to stay married to the same guy forever: laughter and the daily compromise.)