It was a lost weekend. No, not that kind.
Basil and I spent most of the weekend futzing with a new kitchen cabinet.
We’d discovered it in Bed Bath & Beyond and snapped it up. It would be the answer to our too-small, no-place-to-store-anything, and there-is-no-freakin’-workspace kitchen.
The only problem was that more than a little assembly would be required.
Still, how bad could it be?
After running the weekend errands on Saturday we dug in.
Just emptying the box gave us pause.
We took a few deep breaths, checked that we had all the parts and got to work, connecting Part No. 1 to Part No. 2 to Part No. 3… etc.
The directions were clear, thank goodness, but it was quite a project. Four hours later, we were exhausted, bleary-eyed and nursing sore backs as we finally put the finishing touches in place.
We congratulated ourselves with dinner out, marveling at our accomplishment and how well we worked together.
That smugness was short-lived, however.
For while we were a model partnership building the cabinet — save for a few dinged fingers and
one of us me swearing like a sailor throughout — moving items into the thing went less smoothly.
We each had a different idea about what to move to the new piece. Neither of us was shy about asserting our case.
Indeed we bickered so voraciously over the type and number of drawer inserts at Bed Bath & Beyond yesterday, the other patrons gave us wide berth. (Really wide berth.)
You’ll be glad to know it worked out in the end.
Everything is where I wanted it.