For the most part, the laws of physics apply to our house. Sure, I’ve seen Diana cram enough things into a kitchen junk drawer to the point where I’m sure several items get pushed right through the fabric of space-time into parallel dimensions in the multiverse. What the inhabitants of these other planes of existence think of these “gifts of the gods” is anyone’s guess, but I am confident that right now there are several “Other Daves” wearing paperclip necklaces and looking with something akin to religious awe at packets of Pizza Hut Parmesan cheese, 30 or so Bic pens that no longer write, and the keys to our first apartment in San Antonio.

“Diana, have you seen the flashlight I left on the counter?”
“I stuck it in the junk drawer.”
“Oh, great. Well, somewhere another me is about to use his new ‘sun stick’ to become king of his stone-age tribe.”
“Nothing. I need to go buy a new flashlight.”

But when it comes to door hooks, especially the one on the bathroom door, they contain only a finite amount of space for hanging. This becomes a problem when Diana picks out outfits the night before, hangs them on the hook, then decides the next morning she wants to wear something different, leaving the previous selections and the empty hangers from the new ones still on the hook… and does this for a week. Since I go to the gym in the morning before Diana gets up, and I shower there before going straight to work, I often won’t notice the overpopulation of hangers until the weekend – like I did this morning. Uncharacteristically (for me) I yelled downstairs:

“Ummm… are you building a mobile up here?”
“A mobile?”
“Are you making some kind of hanging art sculpture out of coat hangers on the back of the bathroom door?”
“No, I just ran out of room on the hook.”
“Well, if you’re not planning on selling it to the Getty Museum, can I have the coat hangers? I need them for the laundry.”
“Go ahead. They probably wouldn’t understand my art anyway.”
“I’m a little confused myself.”
“While you’re at it, would you put those clothes there back in my closet, please?”
“You know, it’s only 12 feet from the bathroom door to your closet.”
“Then it shouldn’t take you very long.”

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