The Repeat Knockers

Just get in the door after a long day? They knock.

Start cooking dinner? They knock.

Have a mouth full of food? Must almost choke as everyone feels the need to run from the table like it’s going to explode and surround the door.

Ready to start homework with the kids? Dog starts barking like someone’s breaking in because the doorbell rang.

Getting ready to enjoy that first sip of wine? Knock, knock.

By the sound of it, I want it the small visitors to our door ( often two or three times a night) to hit an invisible force-field whenever they attempt to step onto the front stairs. I really don’t. I’m actually glad that the kids are being included and making new friends in the neighborhood. They should. I have many fond memories of acting like we owned our ‘hood growing up. It’s just…I need about 75% less of the repeat knocking. I also feel bad when I send the hopeful children away because some dinner/homework/just-got-home time is in progress (I never mention my wine that’s being held behind the door where they can’t see).

I tell them to return at 7 and then the kids can play until 7:30. It seems though – small oversight on my part – they do not know how to tell time. Short of hanging a sign:

“Nia and Nate are not ready to play outside yet so please don’t knock and give our dog five heart attacks a night. And no, you can not take our cups – or Nia’s scooter – home with you. Also, there is a two limit ration on bandages unless it’s a true emergency. And, there is now a lock on the garage refrigerator. Sorry to diminish your hopes of an endless supply of soda.”

I think I’m just going to tell them to wait until they see Nia and Nate outside. Not outside? Not ready to play. Knock? They will NEVER be ready to play. NEVER.

Kidding. That’s for the back side of the sign.

The Repeat Knockers Having a Blast