I found a squeaky door so I got the oil and fixed it… Then did every door I could before my wife caught me.
Am I alone here? It’s so satisfying to just glide open!
Edit: She followed up with: “you’re enjoying yourself too much”
Damn straight I am. It’s the little things you have to enjoy!
I need squeaky doors so I can monitor where everyone is in the house. symptom of some sorta trauma or something.