A Common Household Chore

                                                    A Common Household Chore



         As our intrepid hero approaches the residence he knows only that the automatic garage door opener isn’t working.  He watches his shadow follow along as he walks down the cold, snow piled street.  Thoughts fill his head as to why it’s not working.  Could be a problem with the motor, or the door is frozen to the ground.  It’s been cold enough for that to happen, he thinks.  Maybe a wire has shorted out or a fuse has blown.  Or, maybe there are invisible goblins taking up residence in the garage and they’ve locked the door down.  He starts to chuckle as this thought hits him.  That’s absurd, there’s no such thing as goblins.  Those short, round bodied, fat bellied creatures with long spindly arms, big flat feet, and bulging red eyes set deep in its skull, and with a jaw full of  sharp teeth are just fantasies.  But if they are in the garage, will they attack me when I invade their space?  A cold sweat pours over his body as the thought of being torn apart by a gaggle of goblins takes root in his imagination.  He shakes his head to clear away the image and stands in the street enjoying the brightness of the cold December sun.  There are no goblins, he keeps saying to himself. 

         As he nears the garage door he listens for any noise coming from inside.  None.  He looks around outside the garage for any tell tale signs that goblins are in the area; like dried up carcasses of little animals, or the green gasses from their disgusting farts laying low over the top of the snow.  Still nothing. 

“I’m just letting my imagination get the better of me,” he says to himself.

He tries lifting the door to determine if it is stuck to the cement, and it moves up easily.  Nothing frozen here and there are no signs of any goblins.  Just fix the door and get out of the cold.

         He enters the residence and finds his way to the basement and the electrical panel.  After carefully inspecting the fuses and breakers, he finds them all as they should be.  Well, back to the garage to see if he can get in.

         It would be nice if the side door to the garage was unlocked, he thought.  But as one would expect, no such luck, and to top it off none of the keys he had were for the lock.  So now what is to be done?  There was only one thing to do.  Go to the station and get the right tool for the job, a door spreader.  So off he went to the fire station and then back to the residence to try to open the door.

         With a little help from the spreader the door opens easily, and without breaking anything.  Now that is a bonus.  He’s wary of just barging into the garage, just in case there are goblins in it.  He peers around the space cautiously, seeing no obvious signs that anyone or anything had been in the garage since the last time he had, about three weeks before.  As he peers around the garage he thinks he sees something move in the far back corner.  Then there’s a noise in the other corner.  It sounds like old dried leaves being walked on, or could it be dried bones being chewed upon?  There are no such things as goblins, there are no such things as goblins... 

         Forcing himself to turn his attention to the door opener button in the garage, it shows that it isn’t working and neither is the light switch right next to it.  So, the plot thickens and our hero now believes the problem to be electrical in nature, specifically, no power to the garage.  “Back to the house, the game is afoot!” he said to himself.  But first he has to return the spreader to the fire station then get something to eat.  Lunchtime waits for no man, and if man doesn’t eat when he’s hungry, then he stays hungry.

         ***************** Time passes *****************

         Our hero returns, but he’s not alone.  He brings along reinforcements, in the form of an electrical genius and proper sleuth when it comes to electricity and switches.  You see, as our hero had sat eating his bowl of raisin bran for lunch, regularity being an important part of any healthy diet, he mulled over the current case with his resident electrical expert.  “Is there a switch to the outdoor power?” she asked.  “Hmmmm, I’m not sure,” he answered.  “Let’s go find out.”           So off they go back to the scene of the problem, promptly entering the residence and hurrying to the basement.  “There’s a switch on the driveway side wall of the basement that doesn’t seem to do anything,” she said.  “Mom, Megan, Patrick, and I found it last night.  Maybe that’s all it is.”  If only we were to be that lucky, he thought.  The aforementioned switch is quickly found and placed in the up/on position.  Our dynamic duo run for the back stairs and rush outside to try the remote door opener.  IT WORKS!!!!!!  It’s as simple as flipping a switch.  How about that!

         The garage is properly secured as is the residence and our two detectives make their way back home with a feeling of accomplishment to keep them warm.  And in the back of the garage a small round face with two red bulging eyes appear from behind an old sheet of plywood.  A smile, showing rows of small sharp teeth, spreads across its face.  Then it slinks back into its hiding space to wait.



                                                 THE END