You Can't Go Upstairs

Every now and then you get home from work, get into your comfortable clothes, and melt into the couch, excited by the fact you're finally home. One day I was doing this, and my husband came in and sat in the chair across from me.  We stared at our phones and considered our evening options. While discussing possible dinner plans, my husband said, "Oh, you can't go upstairs."

I knew he was planning on remodeling the upstairs, but I wasn't aware he'd started.

"The door doesn't work. There's plastic across it on the other side. You can't even open it," he continued.

Without looking up from my phone, I countered with my clearly very witty response.

"If I can't open it, how do you get upstairs?"

"Well, I use the ladder, get on the roof above the back porch, and then use the hobbit door."

I stopped scrolling through Instagram and looked at him.

"We don't have a hobbit door."

"We do now."

"What does that even mean?"

"I cut out the window and made a hobbit door."

At this point in the story, it should be noted my husband had just gotten a Sawzall, and he was so excited by it, he suggested he would take it with us while mushroom hunting. Why bring a knife when you could bring a power tool? And the property we owned came with a lot of extra doors. As in, the guy before us clearly thought he was very inspired, making shelves out of doors, using doors to line holes in walls, putting doors where doors weren't actually needed.

"I cut down one of those doors and used a bunch of scrap wood to install it."

"What happened to the window?"

"It was a bad window. I'll get us new ones."

"So I could use the ladder, do a pull up onto the roof, and then go through this jankily installed hobbit door and then be upstairs?"

He looked at me like I was insane.

"Well you could, but you don't want to do that."

"Why?"

"Because of the spiders."

Important note: I hate spiders. My long nosed dust buster is the only reason I feel secure in my own home.

"There weren't spiders up there the last time I was up there."

"Well, that's because you weren't in the walls. Where do you think spiders live?"

"What?"

"I took out all the walls, and then the spiders came out."

"There aren't any walls up there?"

"No."

Then he asked if I wanted pizza. I did, so I said yes.

I haven't been upstairs since.