Behind closed doors

I’m pretty busy around this time of year, but unfortunately something came up the other day that I couldn’t put off: A battle to the death.

Well, techinically it’s not a battle to the DEATH, more of a battle to the who-can-prove-they-reign-supreme. Let me set it up for you. This was the conversation that started it all:

Me: So the guys are pretty much done putting in our new front door. They just need to install the new doorknob when it comes in and do a few paint touch ups.

My husband: So they’re going to come back and peel that sticker off? (Fig. 1: Photo of sticker on sidelight, below)

door

Me: What do you mean? They’re not coming back for like two weeks. We’re not going to keep the sticker on there for that long. They just forgot to peel it off.

My husband: Ok, so go peel it off.

Me: (long pause, during which I’m chanting “serenity now” in my head) Why should I peel it off? You peel it off.

My husband: I’m not peeling it off.

Me: Well, I’M not peeling it off. I’ve been dealing with this door crap for three days.

My husband: Okay, so it’ll stay there.

Me: Fine. It’ll stay there.

My husband: Fine.

Me: Fine.

The gauntlet has been thrown. And I have accepted. I will NOT be the first one to peel that sticker off. You must know that I am at a slight disadvantage here, given my tendency for neatness and order and having every single thing in its place to the point that if it’s not I totally lose my sh*t. And my husband is a man who can do this to a bed and this to the rest of the house.

I can do this. I CAN DO THIS. He won’t break me. Even if it’s almost Thanksgiving and we’ll be having people come THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR into the house and they will see this sticker and be so distracted by it that they won’t even notice I made the pie crust from scratch and I have votive candles on the table. VOTIVE CANDLES. *twitch* *twitch*

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