My daughter lives in a room which resembles half the size of a dorm room without the cute refrigerator and roommate. It is cluttered, overstocked with office supplies, and her furniture is too large for the small surroundings.
As we were leaving for the mall the other day, I drove down the street and noticed that our neighbor had a bed in his driveway that he was selling for $30.00. Think Ikea+1990+Patrick Nagel+black metal+bunk bed with the bottom bunk missing and replaced with a desk. Got it?
For my daughter, it was love at first sight. A high bed with space underneath for all of her junk which includes a desk lamp and a bean bag chair. Just like dorm living.
Three things were involved with the bed relocation: getting the bed from the neighbor's house to mine, removing my daughter's old bed and putting it in my car, getting the new bed into her room, my husband leaving for church so that I would have to put on my Handy Manny hat, and a daughter who likes to see things on the tip of her brain come to fruition immediately. I think that was more than three things.
The neighbor was kind enough to have four boys carry the bed to my house, and my daughter diligently removed the bedding from her bed and began to disassemble her old bed. What I didn't know is that when she took all the bedding off and emptied things from the drawers on the bottom, she shoved everything under her existing desk in one big heap.
After finding an allen wrench, and taking the metal monster down to a maneuverable pile, we got it into her room and began the reassembly. I think it was 90 degrees in her room because I couldn't stop sweating. Construction work will do that to you. I wanted to strip down to my underwear, but the four children inhabiting the four walls, asking questions every 2.5 seconds would have raised even more questions. I opted for a fan and turned on the air conditioning.
I wanted to cuss about seventeen times during assembly. The screw wouldn't go in tight enough, the metal was scraping off and hitting her walls, and I accidently put it together backwards. When we tried to turn the bed around, it hit her desk piled with more crap than any fourteen year old should have, and the desk crumbled in a particle board heap. All of it's contents fell to the floor. [insert cuss word here and more buckets of sweat]
At 8 o'clock the bed was finished. The desk contents still remained sprawled like confetti on the floor, and now the three boys began digging through her "stuff" creating a frenzy. The boys brought in food now too, and sat ringside as she yelled, I sweat, and they sang and laughed.
I finished the evening with sore arms and a bowl of ice cream. I am hanging up my hard hat, and next time, I will wait until my husband returns from church before I decide to assemble any furniture. It's either that, or just use duct tape.