Ry, "Wouldn't this be easier if we just waited for Dad to get home?"

Me, grunting and cussing and trying to fit the 1000 pound front door back into its homey velvety yet elusive little hinges, "Yes it would. But honey, you can't sit around and wait for a man to do everything."

Why take the door off its hinges? The door I hung all by myself last fall? Summer has finally arrived. Tomorrow we will go from highs in the upper 80s and 50 degree nights to highs in the upper 90s and 70 degree nights. We can't whine. This sweet mellow spring has lasted longer than I can ever remember. We've slept under open windows for all of May. Usually we have long since settled the argument about when to turn on the a/c. So, tomorrow morning for sure. And after chiseling out the hinges, the humidity swollen oak door will snick into place, easy as pie. Thank you very much. (I hope.)