All The Right Pieces In All The Right Places

The bed alone came in four different boxes. Dozens of pieces big and small plus four full bags of screws, dowels, and related construction things. The directions had the thickness of a magazine. Pages of descriptions with illustrations and alternate ways to put it all together. 

I started sweating just staring at it all. 

I've put together many pieces of furniture over the years, and with each piece comes its own share of stress, blood, sweat, and tears. And cussing. Lots of cussing. Sometimes the directions read like Latin and it would take forever to put together. This would always include putting something together incorrectly, followed by a string of colorful expletives while took it apart and put it back together again. 

And sometimes the directions were clear, but then pieces were missing or broken, and I'd have to contact the manufacturer to send new pieces. Usually though, manufacturers of prefab furniture provide extra parts and a customer service line to help you if you're grappling with broken or misshapen pieces that don't fit.

Like life, there's not always accurate directions, and the right pieces don't always fit where they're supposed to, and there's a lot of cussing (for me).

This time we ordered furniture from IKEA for both our daughters. We've ordered from IKEA before, and even though the joke is always what I've already outlined above -- tons of pieces and hours of sweaty fun to put together -- they've been quality products for us and they do a good job with packing their goods and the providing clear directions. 

The furniture is for both our daughters, because after sharing a bedroom for 12 years, and cramming a lot of stuff for two kids into one space, they're getting their own rooms as teens after some house remodeling. They've always gotten along fine in that shared space, but they're definitely looking forward to their own rooms. Their mom Amy has been helping them go through what they're keeping and what they're getting rid of. Now that we're back from vacation, it's time to get it all done before school starts. 

It is a bittersweet moment, though. This is yet another transition to independence and adulthood for them both. Moving away from young kid things (not all the way) to older teen things. Decorating their own spaces they way they want (within parental reason). 

It's also bittersweet because we know they'll miss each other. They've been close as sisters and friends for a long time sharing a bedroom and it will come with some buyer's remorse. More for our oldest Beatrice than her younger sister Bryce; Bryce can't wait for her own room. Yes, they'll still be in the same house together and will hang out in each other's new rooms, but the childhood days of sharing space are ending. 

I took a break from putting together Beatrice's new bed to have lunch. She asked me if she could help put something together, and I said of course. I told her to put together her desk chair. 

From where I sat at our dining room table eating lunch, I could hear Beatrice moaning and complaining about putting the chair together, not understanding the directions, dropping screws. Just like her dad but without the cussing, I thought. Then I heard Bryce tell Beatrice she'd help her. 

Bryce joined her big sister and I listened to them work together. They laughed, they complained, they teased each other, and they put the chair together, together. At one point it sounded like they were struggling with the chair, but when I asked if they needed any help, I heard a resounding no. 

I checked out the new chair and sure enough they put it together correctly, although there was an extra plastic cap that looked like it belonged on the chair. Bryce told me it did not and the directions said to throw it away. 

Well done, kids. However, life doesn't come with such a clear set of instructions, and while they're not quite in their own rooms yet, so far their budding independence and path to adulthood has all the right pieces in all the right places. 

Reusing the Usable

As I approached the tipped over chair, now covered in broken Cheez-Its, I realized that there was something else in it. Something wrapped in a blanket. Something small, like an animal. Or a child. Something I thought was dead.

That was my first thought because it didn't move. I touched the chair to shake it a bit, and that's when the wrapped up thing breathed. 

I jumped away and backed into the street. I thought to myself, What the hell is this? A child sleeping in our old chair?

Then it breathed again. I didn't know if I should try to wake up whoever it was or not; it could be a safety problem for me. So, I walked back across our street and into our house. I also had a work call in only a few minutes and wasn't sure what to do, but I knew we needed to call the police. I asked my wife Amy to call and she did. She'd also be leaving soon to take our daughters to school and we had know idea who was sleeping outside in our old chair that was scheduled to be picked up by our city's garbage service. 

I went into my office and had my call. Once Amy returned from dropping off the girls, she told me that she'd gone back outside after calling the police and talked to one of our neighbors about the whoever it was sleeping in our old chair. 

That's when the woman woke up and uncovered herself. She got up and brushed the Cheez-Its off herself and the chair. She then told my wife something about wanting our old chair for her apartment, and then she got tired, curled up in it, and fell asleep. Amy had seen her before around town; she was most likely experiencing homelessness. Maybe there was addiction and/or mental health issues; we just don't know. She took off down the street not wanting to deal with the cops, though. A few minutes later the police drove by our house slowly and our old chair but didn't stop. 

The Day Before

We had put our old burgundy cuddle chair across the street the night before like the city asked us to do. But because we placed it on the property in front of us, and not directly on the street, they would take it. It's one of those situations where you think, But it's still right there. Why didn't you just take it? 

Ugh. It would have to stay outside on the street one more night. Which was a bummer because we'd have to look at it again outside for one more night. Although the recliner part of the cuddle chair had been broken for years, we still used it in our living room, in no rush to replace it. We loved that chair and had purchased it about five years before we had our oldest daughter. It went from our apartment to our first home together, with lots of family pictures in it over the years.

But it was time to go because Amy found a free street loveseat. Amy loves finding free stuff on the street. If there's stuff on the street with a free sign on it, Amy wants to check it out. And if she doesn't check it out the first time she sees it, she'll double back to check it all out. The girls and I always tease her about it, and the girls also plead for her not to take free street stuff. There are bowls and plates she's found and the girls won't use no matter how many times we've washed them. Amy's motto is reduce, reuse, recycle. I know my grandpa would've been proud. He always prided himself in reusing the usable. 

That's why when the girls got home at the end of the day to find a new (used) recliner loveseat showered in Febreze freshener siting in the place where our cuddle chair used to be, and after they heard the story, they looked at me and said, "Dad, why did you let Mom get a street couch?"

"It's in great shape, girls. It really is," I said.

"But it smells," they said.

"No, it's just a little musty. It'll smell like us soon. We'll be on it. Jenny will be on it. Don't worry, it's really a nice recliner loveseat," Amy said.

The girls frowned. "No more street stuff, Mom."

But we were already using it. Our dog Jenny was already sleeping on it (although she hacked a few times the first time because of the Febreze). Just like it had always been there in our house. Like it was meant to be. 

The Day Before That

I had a busy day ahead with staff calls and work planning, and the last thing I wanted was a monkey wrench tossed my way to sabotage my day. When Amy got home from dropping the girls off at school, she was excited about something.

"There's a free loveseat that's perfect for our house!" 

She told me the story of driving by it, almost saying no way, and then circling back to check it out. 

"It's really in great shape and the both recliners work," she said.

It was in front of a house that was for sale. She wasn't sure if it was from the house, but mostly like it was. 

"We should go get it," she said. 

Now, I've never been a very spontaneous person throughout my life, although that's changed a lot since I've been with Amy and we've had kids. But my old resistance response of no was exactly what I did. 

"No, I just have too busy of a day today," I said.

"Okay, we can just look at it tomorrow maybe," she said, with a subtle hint of disappointment. 

I wasn't necessarily resistant to the idea of a free couch that was in good shape, but it was the time involved of going to see it, trying to get it home, etc., that was the monkey wrench throwing me. My day was busy and I just didn't want any unplanned pivoting to happen. 

But pivot I did. We were thinking of buy a new cuddle chair soon anyway and I know Amy was thinking about saving a thousand bucks, which I liked, so I made room in my schedule and we went to look at it. 

I agreed it was in good shape, but it was heavy and I didn't think it would fit in our SUV. We got it halfway into the car, but that's as far as it would go. We were less than two miles from home and she convinced me it was wedged enough for her to sit behind it and hold it while I drove us home. 

And that's exactly what we did. We got it home and into the garage safely. Later when my neighbors were home I asked for their help and we moved the old cuddle chair out to the street and the put the found loveseat in its place. 

I'm sitting on the new (old) loveseat now as I write this, our dog Jenny sleeping next to me on one of the old crocheted blankets my grandmother made so long ago. But this story is more than just finding this free piece of furniture we were looking to buy and how that all worked out for us. 

No, if Amy hadn't circled back to check out the free loveseat; if I hadn't changed my mind to go look at it with her; if we hadn't driven it home hanging halfway out of our car; if our neighbors weren't available to help me move both cuddle chair and loveseat; if the city had actually picked up our old memory-filled cuddle chair off the street the first night we put it outside -- then it wouldn't have given that homeless woman a few hours of somewhat safe sleeping the second night it was outside. 

Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe not. Whatever it was, reusing the usable was meant to be.