Whose zat knockin at chore door? by Arhonda Luman 5-25-16

closed round doorThere  it was again, that knock, knock,  knock. ” That’s strange,” I thought, as I sat in my chair watching the early morning news and checking my Facebook. I cocked my ear, straining to see if I could tell what direction the curious sound was coming from. It  ceased, so I just sat in bewilderment. Knock, knock, knock. It was louder this time.

I got up and checked outside  the front door. I really did not think anyone was there. My husband had just gone through that door to sit on the porch, surely he would have let them in?  I did not see anyone, not even him, so i closed the door and went back to my chair.

“No one is there but you better find him! He might need help!” my fears whispered mysteriously in my ear.

This time when I looked outside,  I found him sitting in his chair, oblivious to everything. He was totally submersed in nature, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping and breathing the fresh, crisp air. I realized at this point, the knocks had to come from inside the house. I went to my two teenager’s bedrooms to investigate the mysterious knocking but they were still asleep.

There it went again knock, knock, knock, this time it was very soft.  Ok, now I had to check the two babies. I passed Bronson’s room  first. I could see his tiny form on the huge king size bed, swathed in the cover. He was sound asleep. Dang, another roadblock!  I only had one more thing it could be, so I crossed through the kitchen to check on Greyson. I made it to the door of the laundry room when I heard it again. This time,  I opened the laundry room door and there he stood, wearing nothing but his spidyman undies and a huge smile. He finally learned how to knock!

Singing, “Oh happy day!”

 

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