Flashback Friday-The Closet Edition

Last week I introduced you to Flashback Fridays, but I realized that maybe not everyone had crazy childhoods involving their father. Or they just didn’t want to share But this morning while reading Heather’s post, I saw that someone else hosts a Flashback Friday, so I thought I would participate in that.

My memories will still be about my crazy moments with my dad, because seriously we have to laugh, because I am an ugly crier.

Growing up I lived in a turn of the century 3000 sq ft colonial.

It was huge and we had 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a huge kitchen, an office, living room, front room, and dining room.

(Not that all of the rooms were finished, mind you. Our house was always in a state of construction.)

My dad & mom were thinking of renting out the 3rd floor walk up attic that they had converted into a one bedroom apartment. Instead building stairs on the outside of the house that would get them to their apartment without having to go through our house my dad decided to block off our stairs and build some more somewhere else within the house.

He kept eyeing up the hall closet that was just outside my bedroom. He was convinced that if he just cut the floor out of this closet he would have an instant place to put the stairs.

Everyone told him this was a bad idea. They told him how there wouldn’t be enough head room after he cut the floor out, they told him that the incline of the steps would be too steep. Everyone encouraged him to get someone to build stairs on the outside of the house.

He didn’t listen. Which, to his defensive, rarely listened. If he thought something was right, even if all of the evidence lead to the contrary, he would go with his gut, never listening to reason.

When I got home from school that day my dad was in my closet via a ladder from the first floor. He and his trusty saw-zaw had cut out the floor to the hallway closet and realizing that they wasn’t enough room decided to knock down the wall separating my closet from the hall closet and he was chucking all of the things in my closet into my room.

When he saw me he starting yelling “Heather! Look at all this shit that I had to move so that I could get the stairs finished today. How am I supposed to work when I have to move all of your stuff?”

Let me just clear something up-chucking my things into my room from my closet is not exactly moving them. Also, I was a teenage girl who was just as organizationally challenged as I am now, if not more and my closet….well, it was scary.

So I start to yell back, “How was I supposed to know when I left for school this morning that you would decide that today was the day to do this and really are you yelling at me because I had my stuff in my closet?”

He laughed and realized that maybe I shouldn’t be in trouble for his mistake (which really I was surprised that he admitted that) But still told me that I was losing my closet either way because he needed it for the stairs. But I was welcome to use the shelf up above and hang stuff on the rod, even though it really wasn’t my closet anymore.

And when those stairs were put in, they were scary. if you stood at the top of the stairs and looked down you couldn’t actually see the stairs they were so steep. You climbed up them like a ladder and many of my friends that would come over would freak out when they had to go down the stairs and would do the whole toddler butt scoot thing all the way down.

Another thing those stairs did was bounce, at first it was scary, but after a while you just got used to it. I got to a point where I could go down the stairs without looking and I would bounce off the wall at the bottom of the stairs to stop the momentum that I had because I went down there. Also, there was no hand rail, we would use the rafters in the office, sort of, to come down. But really you just had to use the force and bolt down those stairs.

Everyone of those nay sayers got a good look at those stairs. And everyone of those nay sayers pointed out things that were wrong with the stairs. Legitimate concerns over the stairs.

My dad had a name for those nay sayers. He called them assholes.

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Comments

  1. Your stories make me laugh, sounds like you had an interesting childhood.
    Every Friday I keep trying to think of something funny to post but my mind goes completely blank, I know funny things happened I just can not remember them, maybe it is my subconscious trying to protect me!

  2. Okay, now I wish their were pictures. I keep picturing the stairs at the Winchester Mystery house in San Jose, CA. Snort.

    I am kinda loving these stories. Keep it up friend.

  3. Heather,

    This brought back SO many old memories. I definitely remember those stairs

  4. This story makes me laugh, like out of control, inappropriate, funny stares from coworkers laughter.

    Your dad sounds like my mom, but (sort-of) handy. I would tell these stories about my mom, except I'm pretty sure she would murder me.

    Thanks for linking up with Jo, hilarious!

  5. That's FUNNY! Too bad about your closet though.

  6. You are a beautiful writer. :)

  7. This is hilarious! It sounds like our pull down attic stairs!

  8. Wow- those stairs scare me!

    Steph

  9. sounds crazy. my ex-husband liked to take walls down, rebuild them and make holes in walls that shouldn't be there.

    that has nothing to do with him being my ex…or…um…maybe a little

  10. Kelly Harris says:

    Would those naysayers be named Rick and Joel?