The good news is that we only have two weeks left in this rental house to break things.  The bad news is that this Princess Zurg broke the storm door 85 percent off its hinges.  Well, technically it’s not the hinges that are broken off; it’s the slab of wood that helps encase the storm door that has been ripped off of the house.  Mostly.  Unfortunately, the person who installed the door must have expected that only the gentlest of souls would ever open or close it.  He certainly didn’t anticipate that it would have to tangle with my nine-year-old Amazon in a snit.  Frankly, from what I’ve seen of the house’s carpentry in the three months we’ve been here, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the thing had been attached with a staple gun.  But there it is now, dangling by a thread–or rather, a screw–on our front porch.  I think it looks jaunty, but I don’t know if our neighbors will agree.

We were all very upset at first–especially PZ, which is saying quite a lot, because I was really, really, really upset–but upon further reflection, the incident seems only to add to that overall Christmasy feeling.  You know, hemorrhaging money and all that.

Wake me up when my house is finished and we can go back to destroying our own property.

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