Never…
Never try to remove your foot using a storm door.
I’ve looked at the manual of life and have yet to find this entry. Yet, a couple of weeks ago, I tried to do this.
Wait. No, I didn’t “try”, it became an accidental attempt.
Dear wife says to me, “Honey, would you get the case of beer out of the car for me, please?”
Sure, no problem. Now, it’s well below freezing. I’m in full writing mode sitting at the computer in shorts and a t-shirt. Barefoot. The car is only 5 feet from the door. No problem. Right?
Well, the run out to the car, opening the door, picking up the case in one hand, no problem.
Hauling the case into the house, back up the steps… No issues.
Just as I’m stepping up into the entry, a gust of wind decides to close the storm door. A little too fast.
Now, over the course of my life, I’ve had linebackers use my legs, back, and shoulders as platforms to move into the offensive backfield quicker than if I weren’t there. I’ve been cleated more than once in the ankles. I was wearing shoes. Socks. Tape. It still present a moment of “not joy” when it happened.
Without said shoes, socks, and tape - the moment of “not joy” was not only 10x more intense, it did last for more than a moment. It still bleeds almost a month later. I’ve become an expert in tearing stitches. Worse, I’m learning how hard it is to repair the Achilles tendon.
So, my lesson? Never trust storm doors.
John P.