Since I've been wanting a table for my back porch for what seems like a long time, my family decided they would give me one for Mother's Day. (They love me and are thoughtful like that.) In the nature of things never being as simple as they should be, we set out to find a table. Now I won't go into how completely paralyzed I am when faced with such crucial decisions, but suffice it to say I looked at a lot of tables. I finally settled on one that was at Big Lots. I know, right? I almost never go there, but they were having a sale and I thought it was really pretty, so the decision was made.
Of course they were out of them, so I had to wait until they got mine in. By that time there wasn't a child-of-mine in sight, so I headed out to pick it up by myself...and it was then, in the 142-degree heat, that Nice Big-Lots-Guy and I realized it wouldn't fit into the car. Good ole Larry saved the day with his truck, and he even unloaded it onto my porch. I assured him that I would have my guys put it together for me that next weekend.
Unfortunately for the aforementioned plans, we ended up at Kari's, and the whole Memorial Day weekend passed without said assembly.
A few days later I found that box that was holding the key to all my summer happiness just hanging around mocking me. MOCKING ME. So I pulled out my miscellaneous basket of tools and set out to do it myself. I saw EASY ASSEMBLY printed all over the box, so I was feeling quite confident.
I got it out of the box and marveled over the enclosed miscellany of screws and bolts and whatnot. And then I came to the terrible realization that there were no directions. No. Directions. Just a pile of things I could not identify, much less use in a competent manner.
Now I'm not gonna lie. I said some unkind things about Big Lots. A lot of unkind things. There may have been Facebook postings and perhaps a tweet or six. After maligning the good name of all-things-Big-Lots I got tired and shelved the whole project for a different day, perhaps a day when I was less dying of heat and also less cranky.
A couple of days later Sheri came by because I made spaghetti and like to share, and after we ate we decided to take a look at it. We ascribe to the school of thought that two heads are practically always better than one, so we settled down to do some serious figuring-out.
And figure-it-out we did.
We pulled out the miscellany of screws and bolts and whatnot,
looked this way and that,
stood on our heads a couple of times...
and finally decided we were ready to proceed.
And as is so typical of life in general, just as we had things all figured out, that's when it happened...
Y'all.
I found the directions.
That's right. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was completely and even 100% wrong in all my blaming, and criticizing and yes, even a bit of mocking of The Big Lots.
The instructions were tucked in a corner behind some cardboard and I missed them.
Because that is far too often the way I roll.
Nonetheless, I choose not to belabor the fact that I was quite the goober and instead would like to point out this one undeniable fact.
We didn't need them silly directions anyway OR the aforementioned sons, or even the laughing-from-his-own-yard neighbor.
I'll have you know that Sheri and I got that little table up in
Of course just as we finished the neighbor-man who had been gauging our progress from his backyard offered his help.
No thankya nice-neighbor-man...we can do it ourselves :)
Happy Friday Y'all!
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