When a door shuts, I'm so glad On the way home from work last night, I was thinking about a car my mom had when I was in about the 4th grade. You see, my family and cars sometimes don't mix very well. We're doing better, but boy do we have some stories. Once, we'd gone to the grocery store -- the only one in our tiny little town. Mom parked in the parking lot and when we got out of the car, one of the doors fell off. If I'd been a little older, I probably would have just died right there. But I think I was probably 10, so I didn't really care about that stuff yet. And mom? Well, what could she do? She picked up the door, slammed it back into place. And we got our groceries. I seem to remember something about a hood flying off of some car while it was being driven down the highway, but that's a story for another day.