Youngest Child has self-assembly nailed - Janet Christie's Mum's the Word
I have a new office chair to assemble. For two years I’ve been perching on an old fold-up garden stool acquired from Middle’s “too good to throw away” furniture foraged from removal jobs that’s deposited with me because I have storage (a tiny, bursting at the seams, shed). The count so far - double bed, sofa, pew, garden bench with stagecoach wheel legs, wardrobe and a beast of a leather ottoman footstool that dominates the workpod and everyone but me loves cos it’s great for snacks/feet during telly binges. Do I sound irritated? Course not, I love using my car boot for my own storage needs and didn’t mind at all jettisoning hundreds of books when I moved. Hmph.
Back at the big cardboard box containing the chair, Youngest is “buzzin’ for this”. Anyone else (her brothers, me) would hide but she loves this kind of thing.
Advertisement
Hide AdAdvertisement
Hide Ad“Would you like to use my screwdrivers?” I say, ransacking the kitchen drawer for my Christmas cracker set.
“We have a proper toolbox remember,” she says, heaving it from the cupboard.
I do have this stuff, just don’t know how to use it. But I know a woman who does. Even if she is dressed like Jessica Rabbit’s Insta niece.
“Excellent,” I say. “You are clever. Now I won’t need to get a man in,” I add, just to annoy her.
“OMG - can’t believe you actually just said that.”
With the instructions spread out she cracks on, simultaneously tapping her acrylic talons on her phone for snatches of song (never a whole tune, grrr) and pinging messages. Now and then she mutters “Righty Tighty”, or “Lefty Lucy”.
“Are they your friends?” I say.
“OMG - can’t believe you actually just said that.”
“Joking. Knew it was the music.”
“It’s so I screw the screws the correct way,” she says. “Don’t you say that?”
“Er no. Well! I didn’t do woodwork at school. Not allowed. None of that. If a girl even wore trousers they’d get the belt. Your grandmother only had one pair of ‘slacks’, for the garden. Any girls wanting to do woodwork had a massive fight on their hands.”
“Back in history time sounds terrible,” she says.
“Terrible,” I agree. “Why do you think I’m a feminist?”
“Yeah! So glad you are,” she says. “Because I need someone with stumpy nails to tighten this bit. Don’t wanna break mine.”
