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  • Some Assembly (And Tequila) Required

    May 15, 2007

    Hi. I’m hiding out down here in the archives with a bottle of Merlot and some cheese and crackers. Want to join me? Oh lookee! Here’s a post from last August.

    We are officially in the dead of summer here in Texas.

    My flip flops have melted into the pavement like bubble gum. What the mole hasn’t destroyed of my lawn, the sun has burnt beyond recognition. I can barely stand the sight of my shorts and tank tops that I couldn’t wait to wear back in April. I have soured on summer. I am ready to break up with summer. If summer were my boyfriend, I would beat him to death with my electric bill. The thrill of summer is gone folks.

    Because it has been so miserable outside, Sean and I have been spending a lot of time indoors together. A lot of time indoors together. Which has given us both a bad case of cabin fever, the primary symptom of which is repeating ones self. Repeating ones self.

    One afternoon last week, in a state of Freon-induced dementia, I decided to get out our Ryan’s Room Mambo Combo Tent Playhouse and assemble it in the den in an effort to occupy and amuse my child thus alleviating the symptoms of cabin fever and so that I might avoid cannibalizing my child for yet another day. Although my precious little spawn is mighty tasty – a little like cheese enchiladas.

    In my mind, my very tiny blonde mind, I imagined my child sitting quietly and patiently nearby assisting me in the construction of Ryan’s Room, handing me the little white framing tubes upon request like a surgical nurse. Delusion is another symptom of cabin fever. Another symptom.

    What Ryan doesn’t tell you about his stupid room is that the assembly of the 147 parts requires an advanced engineering degree, the flexibility of a Chinese acrobat and the patience of Mother Teresa. I have none of these things.

    Because I am a methodical person when delusional, I dumped out all the parts and sorted them putting all parts of similar shape and size together. Because Sean is also methodical, he resorted all parts of similar shape and size into one big pile, which he stuffed into the bowels of the sofa. Yet, I managed to assemble one whole tent frame without losing it. Too much. It was a feat of engineering and personal restraint.

    As I stood back to admire my work, Antique Daddy walked through and asked how I planned to get the frame inside the nylon tent form. Some people are so annoyingly logical. Of course I had a plan. My plan was to curse Ryan and his room and his tents and his mother and father. Then I would locate the nylon tent form, which Sean had filled with Brio train tracks and taken somewhere. Then I would disassemble the frame, afterwhich I would wedge my antique behind into the flaccid boneless yet cheerfully colored tent form and finally I would reconstruct the frame from the inside. Right after I remembered where I last put the Tequila.

    So I disassembled the frame, resorted the parts, crawled into the deflated tent and asked Sean to hand me one of the long white plastic rods, labeled A so that I might begin constructing our afternoon of summer fun. As I stuck my hand out to receive Part A, I felt Part A beating me on top the head. Beating me on top the head. And then I lost it. I tried to get out of the tent and have a word about respect with the boy, but I was trapped like an angry cat in a pillow case.

    And then I realized I was craving a Margarita and cheese enchiladas.

    8 Comments »

    1. Clare says:

      Hi Antique Mommy! Love this post. I must go back through you archives for more….

      May 15th, 2007 at 3:42 am

    2. Kara says:

      HAHAHA! We have one of those too and I don’t even try to put it together anymore, I just get out the tunnels.

      May 15th, 2007 at 8:54 am

    3. Joyful Days says:

      Merlot & Tequila…two of the most lovely words in the English language–all in one post!! I’d be happy to join you.

      That was a great re-run!

      May 15th, 2007 at 9:15 am

    4. cce says:

      Ahhh, yes. I remember summers in Miami in much the same way. Relentlessly sunny but horrifically hot and all of us shut up together looking for indoor activities and another bottle of rum to prepare the fifteenth mojito of the day. Can’t say I miss that or the hurricane preparations but now that we’re in New England we have whole winters to contend with and we’ve switched to Scotch…on the rocks, all business.

      May 15th, 2007 at 10:04 am

    5. MJ says:

      This reminds me of assembling a much simpler tent with my children. They would hide–I mean, play–with parts and try to climb into the %&$* thing while I was trying to put it together. I absolutely hated it. I only wish I’d realized that wine (not whine) was the solution to the problem. Luckily, they do outgrow this phase…a bit. That is, you only need to ask them 8 gazillion times to wait until you’re finished instead of 1600 gazillion times. Progress is incremental.

      May 15th, 2007 at 12:41 pm

    6. Amber says:

      We bought that exact same thimg from Costco. After more failed attemps than I can count, my hubby finally read the directions…

      May 15th, 2007 at 4:56 pm

    7. wordgirl says:

      You know, I was just beginning to revel in the coming warm temperatures (although lamenting my as yet untanned skin) and then I remembered the way the house smells when the air conditioner has been runnning all day and the outside of the house smells burnt and dead like the interior of a hot car. And suddenly I’m filled with dread.

      May 15th, 2007 at 10:24 pm

    8. Dianne says:

      Ha! Ha! It’s so great to find other moms who have such amusing (later, much later) challenges in their lives! I love your sense of humor! 😀

      May 17th, 2007 at 9:22 pm

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