Longing for a Closed Door

My garage has become a graveyard. For a week it housed not one, but two dead dryers. I tried to keep the door closed. No need for my neighbors to wonder about whether I'm developing appliance-hoarding tendencies.  We got rid of the dryers. Hallelujah. We can park both cars again.

Then my car died.

It's been sitting in the garage for four weeks. It blocks my path to the 'storage wall'. That's the place where we stow all of our very-important-totally-necessary-never-to-be-thrown-away junk. I add to and take away from that wall on a fairly regular basis.  So, I've been tossing stuff on top of my car. What? It's not like it's going anywhere.

 Then, the Handy Man stopped parking his car in the other stall, I'm not sure why. But that has led to me tossing stuff onto the garage floor. That led to my children following my very excellent example. Now, we have a broken bed frame, an extra mattress, three bikes (one of which is in riding condition), a box of wood, and a bag of clothes.  It's very attractive.

What frustrates me is that I have to close the garage door about seven times a day. Why are you people even opening the door? I'll tell you why. Because they don't want to walk up five stairs from the family room to get to the front door. Seriously.

Instead, they go through the garage, risking life and limb by climbing over the piles of junk, then disappear into the neighborhood. All the while, leaving the garage/junkyard wide open for all to see. I can only imagine the gossip flying around our street.

"Did you see Jewels' garage? Someone needs to tell her about spring cleaning."

"Did you hear about Jewels? She's become a hoarder. It's finally spilled over into the garage. They can't even park their car in there."

Maybe I could string some crime tape over the opening. Give them something new to gossip about.

This would all be solved if my kids would close the stupid door.

(Today's One Word Wednesday word was 'longing'. Courtesy of  the GBE 2 Blog Prompt.)