The Builder

A few blogs ago, I shared about my temperamental oven and the middle finger it seems to be giving me. So, I returned the middle finger, and ordered a countertop convection oven. It will be delivered on Wednesday.

This new addition required some rearranging to accommodate my new shiny object. I have spent the last few days, cleaning and moving stuff as I wait for its arrival. My laptop is one of the items that needed to be relocated. I ordered a small side table for my bedroom that would be ideal. It would occupy the space next to my favorite corner chair. Yesterday, it arrived and I was eager to put it together.

Are you familiar with the children’s show, “Bob the Builder”? With two boys, I spent hours with that show on and the song, playing over and over in my head. While I was unpacking the parts to the table, I heard Bob the Builder asking “Can you do it?” and then when I didn’t respond quick enough, he said, “Yes, you can.”. Bob was really enthusiastic about me piecing this together. Brian did ask if I needed his help. Sure, it would have been completed in less than five minutes, but I wanted to do it myself.

There are no words associated with the directions, just pictures. I started with one of the legs and screwed it in. Pretty proud of myself at this point. Thinking Bob is right on the money with my abilities. Then I realized, that I had put it in the wrong location. Fast forward fifteen minutes later, and I am still struggling. Bob has started drinking and is now slurring the words to his song, “Can you do it? Probably not.” Fuck off, Bob.

At this point, I am really annoyed with myself. I take a breath and then start again. I gain momentum. Bob is now passed out as I think he was doing shots every time I screwed up. Thirty minutes later, I am the proud creator of a side table. I place it next to my chair and proceed to go show my spouse.

Me: (imagine a pouty face) “Brian, can you help me? I can’t put it together.”

He follows me into our bedroom and comments, “You put it together. Good job.” He high-fives me. See, Bob, I can do it. It might take me longer than the average human, but I did it. Maybe when you wake up from your drunken stupor, you can congratulate me yourself.

This morning, I am enjoying my new piece of furniture. It holds my coffee while I type this blog and doesn’t mock me like Bob. Constructing things might not be my jam, but I am pretty proud of myself for sticking with it.

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