On one of our first dates, Nick gave me hell for the way I shut the car door. I remember feeling irked and thinking that the relationship wouldn't last more than a week. Nearly four years later…well, I've decided that I have my quirks and he has his. That, and I am really good at blocking out Nick's voice when sanity requires (I know he does the same). I have never considered myself a "slammer". I like to think that I close doors and drawers with intention. I have always been this way and up until that one cold January night in 2006, I've never been called out on my door-shutting abilities.

We had my dad over for supper last night. (I won't even go into the debate on whether one calls it supper or dinner right now.) The Green Bay Packers were scheduled for Monday Night Football, and Dad really appreciates watching games in high-definition television. He left during halftime, the windows rattling behind him as he left. I thought nothing of it, but Nick looked over at me and said, "You come by your door slamming naturally."

Be that as it may, I am pretty sure that neither Dad nor I have discovered our car battery dead because the dome light never turned off, and I certainly haven't let the harsh February temperatures gather in the living room because the door to the garage was left ajar. I am rather proud that when I decide to do something, I do it all the way—if it's worth doing, it's worth doing well, and all that.