Dear Doorknobs,

The whole reason I shut and turned your lock is so that when I get out of the shower and I’m buck naked trying to dry off and do my after shower beauty regimen, you would keep out the bickering. Finding myself quickly covering the goods as two children enter the room tattling about how “so and so” hit them. Only to have “so and so” say they hit them because “tattle taler” took the remote right out of their hand which made tempers flare. As I try to inch my nakedness back towards the wall to grab a towel cover up, the crankiness follows, still arguing who’s wrong and who’s right.

As if you couldn’t top that, there are also those times of “The Great Stink” where you let your locks be turned and the bathroom is filled with one or four children,  sometimes talking over one another. I’m not ever sure what is being said anymore. I’m too busy trying to keep a kerplunk from dropping into the water. You would think since you, door knob, failed to do your job that the wretched aroma wafting around would cause the interrupters to flee. Apparently, that is asking for too much. Instead,  I am forced to holler out threats and lecture about breach of protocols. 

So in the future, useless door knobs, if you could please refrain from letting four byproducts of mine use pennies, butter knives, or any other flat objects from turning your locks I’d greatly appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Rambling Roxy