The Broken Beam

So yesterday my dad came into the house with a sheepish look on his face, and he said, "Don't jump on the bed tonight, Emily."  Completely mystified, I asked him why, and he said there had been a little accident in the garage. 

I immediately raced out to the garage (which is right below my bedroom), and saw something that nearly made my eyes fall out of my head like a cartoon character's.  One of the three beams that hold up the ceiling, (specifically the one directly below my bed) was almost split in half.
But yes, this beam was positioned directly under my bed, meaning that if too much pressure was put on top of it, the floor could cave in around me.  Which isn't a comforting thought when you are trying to sleep.

It turns out that my dad was backing out of the garage when he thought to himself, "Oh, Emily's friend's car might be parked outside!"  So he opened his door to get out and check, but he didn't put his car in park, so his door slammed into the pillar and cracked it. 

The beam is still not fixed, and so I am at my computer on the other side of the room with my camera positioned beside me, ready to take a picture when the floor crumbles down into the garage below me. 

That would be a cool picture, don't you think?

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