wheelchairs cannot get into my house

Arnold Schwarztenager did a cameo in my dreams last night.
We danced for just an instant.
He answered a question of mine.

Max is more fun to dance with.
The music of his power chair is all I need: bells, beeps and
a soundtrack of wheels squeaking on vinyl.

Only two chairs can get on a bus at a time.
Max had to flee because there was no toilet he could use.
Christina had a van waiting that could take just one chair.

I drove off in the Volvo unable to give anyone a ride.
Back to my valley home and my husband, my sons,
leaving concerns about bars in the bathroom behind.

I have stairs and a threshold; wheelchairs cannot get into this house of mine.