Sweat, tears, cursing and chocolate

It sat in the hall for two weeks.

Mocking me in its unboxed state.

Challenging me to open it and get started.

I'd known about the special offer for weeks, watched some stores sell out, brought the children to see it. They approved. I thought about what we have given up and the long summer holidays stretching ahead...even longer due to cutbacks in services for kids with special needs.

So eventually I raided the piggy bank.

It took two of us to bring it home and drag it into the hall, where it sat taking up the space where the kids normally dump their bags and shoes.

Finally I had a morning with only one appointment and I ran out of excuses.

Nervously I chopped at the heavy tape and peeked inside the lid.  There weren't too many bits.  I could get this built in a couple of hours, surely?  After all, I'm a flat pack veteran now.

But maybe lunch first.

Suitably fuelled, I sat down to inspect the instructions.  Which were clearly designed as a cryptic brain teaser.  Not good.

Guess work and common sense was required and a bit of help from Angel.  But then we realised we had done something wrong.  And it was dinner time.  After that life and appointments got in the way.  So it stayed, half built, for several days.

The guilt got to me in the end and today I grabbed my tools and got stuck in again.  And it was bad.  One Facebook friend described this job as the best way to torture a husband..... and after several hours of sweat, tears, cursing and chocolate I could understand why.

The shadows were growing longer and I was about to throw in the spanner when Angel came home, radiating instant calm and helping me with the final adjustments.

And LOOK what we made!

Of course I'm still pulling the grass out of my hair....