Remember how I told you about my busy weekend? And how the weekend culminated with me helping mom rearrange her very heavy bedroom furniture? I mean, super heavy, the night stands have 3′ granite tops and they were the lightest things in the room kinda heavy?
If you can’t lift the furniture, all the sliders in the world can’t help you!
Okay, good.
So, that Sunday night I got a call at 9:45 from my mom. I might paraphrase a bit, but below is how the conversation went:
Mom: What time is it? We unplugged all the clocks during the move and I don’t know what time it is.
Me: 9:45
Mom: Okay, good, I wasn’t sure if it was 8:45 or 9:45. Oh, guess what? We broke the bed when we moved it.
Me: Really? No way!
Mom: I sat down to get ready for bed and it fell apart.
Me: That’s not right! I didn’t notice.
Mom: Me either, but your dad is down in the garage getting some tools. I guess even if we have to put a screw in it, it is still hand carved. No one will know. But I think we need to move the bed.
Me: What do you mean?
Mom: I’m not sure I like this layout.
Me: I don’t understand.
Mom: I wanted the bed over here to get the breeze, but I think the headboard will block it.
Me: I don’t get it.
Mom: We may have to go back to the way it was. You think you might have some time this week…
Me: I don’t know what you are saying.
Mom: (pause) Maybe I can wait for your sister this weekend.
Me: You are living with it for a week!
Mom: Well, we do have to fix the bed – here comes your dad, he’s a sight in his slippers, underwear and tool box! Oh, he doesn’t find this funny, I gotta go…
Click.
Disclaimer: Dad, on the off chance you find this blog, I’m hoping that we’ve gotten to the point where you find the story funny! 🙂 xoxo
