It’s not unusual for any household to have the occasional mishap. Things get lost, broken, or used incorrectly all the time. But this week, we’ve had a number of these occasions that have led me to walk around on eggshells. Not literally, but you know what I mean.
It all started with the piano stool. It’s an older stool that we had placed in front of a vintage upright grand piano that belonged to my husband’s great-great grandmother. Or great-great aunt. Well, somebody in his family long, long ago. It’s really pretty and it’s also incredibly huge. We took it so that no one would burn it or throw it away, but we already had two pianos – the one I bought in my 20’s and the one my husband’s mom left us when she passed away. So three pianos being two too many, we gave the upright grand to our niece. Then this week, we discovered the piano stool that always sat in front of it.
No problem, I thought. We’ll pass that along, as well. But before we did that, I decided to sit on it to see if it was a bit better than the bench we use on Mom’s piano.
It may have been better at one time, but we’ll never know. The stool collapsed in about six pieces the minute I tried to sit on it. Thankfully, I had not placed my full weight on the stool and was able to quickly stand upright, so the pieces fell to the floor but I did not. These pieces are now up at the burn pile.
Then a few days later, we decided to clean out the basement. Two hundred Ball jars later (and I’m not exaggerating), I had boxes and boxes of jars in the kitchen to wash. Several dozen of these were so damaged that they could not be cleaned or saved. We managed to clean and box 70 for a dear friend who cans, and 60 for a niece who cans, and saved about 20 for ourselves (in case I ever find myself wanting a terribly hot hobby that results in yummy food).
Of course, it wouldn’t be normal for me to wash a lot of glassware without breaking a piece. I did, in fact, only break one jar, and in cleaning it up, naturally I cut my finger. The tip of a finger, which meant keeping a bandaid on it was nearly impossible. But, it healed in a day or two.
My husband cleaned the whole house three days later. I will never complain about this in any way – it’s amazing and I love that he does this! In cleaning the downstairs bathroom, he placed the scale in the shower to clean the floor.
To be fair, the scale hasn’t really weighed accurately in several years, so it’s not a big prize in our house.
And it was I who turned on the shower without looking and drenched the scale.
Now the scale weighs incredibly inaccurately. Or it doesn’t if I gained ten and a half pounds overnight. The one thing I do not need in my life is a scale that weighs heavy. Nobody needs that kind of stress.
So, if these things come in threes, then our household mishaps should be over – at least for a while!
Susie, you had me laughing before your derriere ever touched the piano stool. You painted such a vivid picture with words! No, no one needs a scale that weighs heavy! I just kick mine and say, “Liar!” Speaking of Household Mishaps, every night I get on our Innova Inversion Table to relax and unwind from the stresses of the day. This marvelous invention is supposed to rehydrate discs, reduce nerve pressure, realign the spine, relax tense muscles, also helps to ease stress, improve joint health and increase flexibility.
My wonderful husband built a little two step-up thingy to fit under it so I could get onto it much easier. The other night after using the table, I stepped down one step. Totally missing the second step, I was twirled around and catapulted headfirst into the sofa behind the table. My head hit the back of it, my face on the seat and I landed on my knees. My husband hearing the commotion said, “What happened?” I said, “Quiet, I’m praying?” “What? What about?” he asked. I stood up and looked at him. “That God will help me remember there are TWO steps to this thing! I’ve done this twice already!”