I guess it’s time to grow up. After all, Heath finally hit puberty and has to shave every day. We act like grownups in most aspects of life so it’s probably about time right?
Our first step toward adulthood was to buy new bedsheets. One of those bed in a bag deals with the pretty comforter and matching sheets and all the extra throw pillows, that I put on the futon in our room. The next step was to get grownup furniture. We sort of already have grownup furniture
but the TV stand makes it seem like we’re just poor college students pretending to be grownups. So Heath went to Costco and picked up a new TV stand. It’s so pretty though that I hesitate to call it a TV stand. That sounds so cheap and functional.
Kind of like the TV stand that has been serving us for over a decade.
This new piece of furniture, where function meets mature luxury, is big. I’m not sure how Heath got it on the cart in the first place but two burly Costco employees helped him get it off the flatbed cart and into the back of the van. After he told me this he told me I would help him get it out of the van and into the house. Oh joy.
Me: Can’t you ask a friend or a neighbor or someone with testosterone pumping up their muscles into something useful rather than my sorry excuses for arms?
Heath: No. You can do it. You work out!
It’s true that I work out but that line was also an inside joke. Years ago we made a home movie of Cops starring my sister. Heath filmed her rambling self appreciation as she drove slowly around the neighborhood. She kept saying, “Yeah, I work out. And it’s hard to be a cop but I work out.” One day we need to edit that movie and finish it.
Heath always puts me in near death experiences with the line that I work out. It’s not very comforting but it is funny and so far I haven’t died. We get in some good arguments and he stands his ground telling me to buck up and just do it, woman! Then when I successfully help him lift whatever he gets that gentle smirk on his face while he says, “See I told you so! Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Which is really funny considering I don’t think I help him nearly as much as I think I do. I think he does most of the work and I’m just there for the boost in confidence.
I was in the house flexing in preparation to help Heath when I heard a big thud. I cautiously walked out to the garage wondering if my husband was flattened on the floor. He had a huge grin on his face.
Heath: I got it out of the van. Look at the box. It says it weighs 215 lbs.
Then he opened the box and said
Heath: Oh good. It’s not like one of those cheap IKEA products that you have to put together.
Me: Oh great. It’s already put together, weighs 215 lbs. and you want me to help you carry it?
Heath: Yeah. I was thinking it would be best if we carried it around and through the sliding glass door. You know it’s not going to easily fit through the laundry room.
He took out the extra disassembled pieces that were not very heavy and we picked up the lead box of wood. Thinking it might help, I whined and complained the whole way around the side of the house accusing Heath of trying to kill me and whatnot. He got up the concrete step and was about to step up into the family room when I announced I needed a break.
My husband is not mean. Normally he is the most patient, caring person in the world. But in these moments when he’s trying to help my character grow or put hair on my chest or whatever other ridiculous things people tell each other to inspire greatness, he can come across as mean. Especially when he says a firm, don’t even mess with me NO! Then he said we were almost done so just finish the job. I dug into my toes for strength and somehow we managed to heave the thing through the doorway where I immediately dropped my end saying, “It’s too heavy. Forget it. I’m done helping you.” But by then it didn’t matter. That was all he needed me for.
We spent the next couple hours turning a beautifully empty room into chaos. Heath had started out the morning by moving the sectional couch into the hallway and kitchen so he could steam clean the floors. The room sparkled until this new project.
I’ve never figured out why things have to get messier before they can get more organized. We banished the kids outside until they refused to play outside anymore so then I made them watch a movie upstairs. By the time the movie was over we had laughed and talked and dreamed enough while we worked to get the room looking more like this:
I’m so glad we could turn the TV on to watch yet another basketball game.
This jumble of cords disappeared and the extensive DVD collection is still being housed in its original cabinet. I thought that cabinet was nice when we first bought it but now it doesn’t match our new grownup furniture. We’re looking into a replacement.
By that night, Heath was relaxing in his new family room with a little 3rd Rock From the Sun.
The next day we had a roaring fire going while we enjoyed the rain. I feel so grownup now. Especially since we got rid of several more safety locks and outlet covers. It’s like our kids are maturing too.
Heath kept telling me I should decorate with doilies. Since I couldn’t find the doilies given to us for our wedding, I tried my old dust collecting knickknacks. That looked more grandma than the doilies ever would have! For now there are six wallet sized picture frames with old pictures of my nieces and nephews. Gwen arranges and rearranges them all day long. Sometimes she puts the frames in a circle and other times they face each other while she has make believe conversations with her “friends.” It’s so cute I may just keep it that way rather than do what I was planning.