Return of the Law of Even Steven

I have previously written about the Law of Even Steven. Simply stated, whatever I do to improve my life, there follows an equal and opposite sour reaction. Here is the latest example of the Law of Even Steven.

Our master bedroom has spacious HIS and HERS walk-in closets with perimeter closet organizers. For all the husbands keeping tabs at home, my closet is the smaller of the two. Last weekend, I helped my wife clean out her closet. I wound up lugging five hefty bags of clothes to a goodwill store. Never make a household improvement without expecting consequence.

Remember the half dozen pair of new pants from Kmart (see Jean of Arcadia post dated 4-26-05) I ballyhooed over? The Law of Even Steven figured it was time to pay me a ghostly visit. Any regular reader can predict the irony of what happened next.

Think of cause and effect...

Then picture a small home disaster associated with the aforementioned...

As if a poltergeist wrecked havoc, my closet collapsed under the sheer weight of new pants. Not the whole closet organizer just the section supporting my new wardrobe of pants. Fashion court would definitely single out the new pants as the suspect in a trouser lineup.

While minding my own business, I heard the kerplunk sounds of twisting metal brackets, clothing sliding off of hangars, and my 1980's videotape collection crashing to the floor. I kept my composure. There wasn't too much I could do about it at this time.

I commented outloud like a color commentator. "Humm...now if I'm not mistaken that sounded like my closet falling."

I hated to be right in this case. So the money I saved buying a bevy of $1.50 Blue Light Special pants will now have to be shelled out for minor repairs. Holy take me to a haberdashery in the first place, Batman.

By the time I am through with the new fangled closet, it will boast Roman pillars for vertical support beams. If that doesn't work, I will call in a structural engineer. I am determined to outwit, outsmart, and outplay this mischievous force. One thing is for sure. I am not returning those Route 66 pants to Kmart. A sale is a sale is a sale.

Once I grasp my claw hammer for the reclamation project, this poltergeist better beware. In a pissed off state, I am not afraid to use this hammer. This poltergeist can scare the pants off closet hangars but not me. I'll give you Even Steven. Just peek your head out and it will be hammer time.