On the way back from a visit to Chicago, we stopped at IKEA. I feel like I am always on the lookout for organizational solutions to use in our condo. The floor plan isn’t cramped really, it’s just that it supports more of a minimalist lifestyle than we (I) lead.
My biggest source of consternation is the upstairs bathroom (now that my closet has been properly established). The upstairs in general tends to be the last area to get my attention since we spend most of our time in/visitors only see the entry-level rooms.
Now, IKEA may not have the highest quality furniture, but those Swedes know how to deal with tight spaces. I was very excited to find a piece of furniture narrow enough to work in the bathroom. Of course, IKEA stuff does not come already assembled. The box of shelf guts sat upstairs for about a day before I decided it was time to break out the tools.
I grabbed what I needed and headed to the stairs. Nick called out, “Do you need me to put that together for you?”
“No, I have it,” came my reply.
“I can do it, I don’t mind,” he continued, his disbelief at my statement obvious.
“No REALLY. I have it.” I continued up the stairs.
“Okay…well, just call when you need me to come up and help.”
I bit my tongue, but that last one bothered me…as if I needed help to assemble a piece of manufactured furniture! It was the “WHEN” I needed help instead of “IF” that irritated me most.
My father was on kid-detail in the afternoons during summer vacation, so we spent our time watching him do stuff…like build houses. Plus! I was put to work by Brenda when I lived with my aunts (that woman is scary with a power drill). Point being: I’m nowhere near inept! I wanted to snarl and hiss, but I refrained and went to work.
When I emerged after the successful completion of my DIY project, I found Nick lounging on the couch. With proud indignation etched upon my face, I made sure to advise him never to confuse “I don’t want to” with “I can’t” (being that I am liberal with the first and conservative with the second).