Turning the tables
It started with a simple enough request.
“Can you move the little coffee table to beside my new chair?” says Herself.
“Not a chance” says I cheerfully. “There’s no room for it there.”
“Well, make room!”
“No! and that’s the fucking end of the matter.”
For some reason, that led to a row. I don’t understand women, that they can’t take a polite no, or indeed any rational argument
Anyway after half an hour where we went through all our respective misdemeanours in the past and where our parentages were called into question several times, I got tired of it and said I would move the table. Rows are fun but the woman always wins in the end. I have learned that the hard way.
Okay, so I set to work. To move the table to beside her chair I had to move the recliner. But there was nowhere to put that so I had to somehow make space by moving Penny’s armchair upstairs [Sorry Penny!].
Moving furniture from the East Wing into the West Wing is tricky because of a bottleneck in the lobby. It’s either a matter of hauling stuff out the back door, through the garden and in the front door, or else trying to move the furniture by twisting it and slotting it through like a gigantic puzzle. It was pissing rain so I decided on the latter.
I managed it in the end without loss of too much skin and Penny’s chair is now in the
Herself maintains that my armchair looks shabby so she wants to get rid of it. Now I love that chair as it is extremely comfortable and the arms are big enough to use as a mouse-mat and to hold all my bits of smoking paraphernalia. However it was one of the concessions I had had to make [the argument had been getting too close to a past indiscretion and I needed to change the subject quickly].
So I moved my armchair to replace Penny’s one. I then hauled the recliner for it to become my default chair. I don’t like it as I can’t use the arm as a mouse-mat and the seat is too high and at the wrong angle.
I then realised that the gap between the kitchen counter and the new Penny chair was too narrow for Herself’s walker thingy. I would have to move another table to make room but the only place to put it was in the Back Room which is full of junk. So I had to move a load of junk out to the garage.to make room for it.
so I’m now sitting it with my heels dug in to stop me sliding off, and using the touch-pad instead of the mouse. I hate touch-pads! I’m uncomfortable and my back has given up the ghost again.
If I were to ever say, “No! and that’s the fucking end of the matter” to MY other half, the laughter would be ringing in my ears the entire time I’d be moving furniture to wherever she wanted it.
Apparently not as you seem to be still having them? 😉