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?
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