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There was this friendly knock at the side door of our house, our entrance for family and friends -
ba-ba- BA-BA-BA (pause) ba- ba
My oldest son was expected; why in the world would he be knocking? I had left the side door unlocked for him. I scoot over to the door, and there he stood.
"Well, come in! Why are you knocking?"
"Because I can't come in. Look!" - and he holds up the outside handle to our storm door.
Oh my goodness. This leaves me chuckling; why has this handle come apart? This house is falling apart in more ways than I can count. I open the door for him, do my best to refasten the handle, and assure him we will fix this - "Yes, that's definitely a problem."
I must remember to ask Tony to tighten this, with whatever proper tool it requires. In the meanwhile, it's not a big problem, especially if we don't close the storm door all the way....
Two days later - last evening - I stepped outside to chat with a neighbor, standing on our porch, calling out and conversing. The neighbor left and I started to tinker with things on the porch - adjusting the cushions, straightening things. Tony steps out to tell me something, and the storm door closes behind him with a slam -
Yes, you guessed it!
The handle fell off again and we were locked out of our own home. Oh my goodness. "Oops," I said, "I forgot to tell you that the storm door handle was broken. Not a good time to share this news, I guess!"
There we were, standing in our socks.
Silly silly silly situation.
Unfortunately, whatever mechanism /rod/thingamabob that works the handle had slipped out and was now out of reach. There was no way to fix this from where we were.
It's really pretty surprising that you need a handle to open a door, I think. Hahaha.
After a few moments of confusion, we remembered where we had hid an extra key; Tony retrieved this and entered the house through the back door, then came around and opened the side door from the inside. Then he headed for his toolbox and spent the next twenty minutes fixing the door.