February 16, 2012

This never would have gone down in Madison...just sayin'

Rob just happened to snap this shot of me last night. What are the chances?
So I went to pick up Jannika's mattress set yesterday, a week later than planned. (Thankfully. I have no doubt, however, that the week did little to soften any employee's memory of my little incident.)

As I'm helping the sales manager load the bed frame pieces into my car, he picks up a bag of wheels and bolts, looks at me quizzically, and asks, "Do you have a husband?"

I, in my too-big On the run for Alzheimer's shirt and my messy ponytail, hoped this wasn't some lame mattress store parking lot pick-up attempt and hesitantly replied, "Ummm, yeah...?..."

And then this kind, kind (but so, so misled) man looked relieved and spoke slowly like I was five, "Oh, good. He might have a hammer. You can ask him if he would hammer this piece into this part of the frame here, then push in these wheels."

No joke.

And my brilliant comeback that helped reverse centuries of inequality?

"Yeah, we own a hammer."

I want to hit MYSELF over the head. It wasn't until I got in the car that I started thinking of good comebacks, like

"We store our hammer next to the miter saw I used to cut trim for the office, the trowels I used to single-handedly install tile in our bathroom, the ratcheting crimper I used to replace the most of the light switch boxes in the house, the power drill I used to install a storage system in the garage."


"Wait, will you write that down for me? I'm just so confused! You said a hammer will put this thingy in this thingy? Hold on lemme write this with lipstick on my hand... H...A...M...M... is there an A or E next?"

or simply

"Women don't need a husband to own or use a hammer, you jerkytreat."

But I didn't. Sorry to the next woman who gets asked that ridiculous question. Moving on...

In other news, sleep is so elusive in our house that I'm willing to sacrifice my body for the cause. When Silas snuck into bed with us at 4-something and miraculously fell back asleep (thank you Jesus!), I was determined to do everything in my power to keep him asleep. Like stay in one position for the next two hours. Even though my shoulder was cramping. Even though my pinned arm was asleep. Even though I was experiencing intense, focused pain on my hip.

Turns out I managed to permanently cement a rogue barrette into my flesh. All for the sake of sleep.
Notice how I neatly cropped out all traces of stretch marks? You're welcome.
I'm hardcore like that.

Watch your back, mattress sales manager.


Erin Vierstra said...

Hi Coby! Can I just tell you how much I LOVE YOUR BLOG!!! 

I'd like to think that the scarring memories from when you used to babysit us hellian Vierstra rascals helped prepare you to be such a wonderful mom :)

cobandrob said...

 Erin, Leigh was the one who punched me and gave me a bloody nose, not you. :) I just have great memories of doing fake cooking shows in your kitchen, and being grossed out by you guys eating your mac-n-cheese with applesauce and ketchup, and avoiding the pool the entire summer I watched you guys because no one (myself included) wanted to bike to get there. Loved you guys!! (Except when my mom gave you cereal for a snack after school at our house but didn't allow us to eat anything...we'd all sit there and watch you three eat...)

Jim Fletcher Jr said...

Isn't the hammer being used to hold up your bike?

Anne Ooms said...

Excellent title choice. :)