Since we lived on a farm, we had the luxury (I guess you could call it that) of riding a school bus to school.
When I was a Junior in high school my younger sister was a Freshman. I was a “B” to “A-” student. I could have be a straight “A” student IF I worked very hard at it. My Sister was a straight “A” student and did not have to work so hard for it. I always had homework and my Sister rarely took homework home.
One fine day I got on the bus to head for home, and I had no homework. I did however notice that my Sister had a whole arm full of books. Being the devious person that I am, I started plotting. I sat upfront in the bus, and she sat several rows back, so it was no problem for me to get off the bus first.
After I stepped off the bus, I stood close by the door. When my Sister stepped off the bus, with her arm load of books, I tripped her. Her books went flying, and I took off running as fast as I could. She was right on my heels chasing me as I ran into the house, across the dining room/kitchen, where my Mother was busy doing dishes. I headed down the hallway toward my bedroom, which was straight ahead with the door closed. Just as I was about to open the door, my Sister did a full body tackle. I slammed into the door as I was falling and the door came right off the hinges, flattening both me and the door onto my bedroom floor.
My Sister calmly got up and went to retrieve her books.
I got up and turned to see my Mother’s jaw dropped, as she had just witnessed what I had done. I calmly said to my Mother, “don’t worry, I’ll have the door fixed and hung again, before Dad gets home.”
Yes, I really did do that, and yes the door was back up as good as new when Dad got home.
That must have satisfied them (that the door was fixed) because I never heard another word about it, and my Sister never said anything either.