Thursday, February 28, 2013

Hanging A Growth Chart

In two of the houses we'ved lived in since being in Tasmania we've had tall ceilings. I'm talking massive. The kind that require a lot of help to reach. Now, I suppose normal people don't make a habit of reaching their ceiling, but then we aren't normal.  In the last home we lived in I spent one morning eat my bowl of oatmeal staring down a huntsman spider. It wasn't easy, the beast kept trying to move out of view & then took to staring me down. However, I refused to lose sight of it so afterwards Mr S could climb up on the table with my super cool extend a pole & get the beast down & out of the house.

The difference between that house & this house was that the light fixtures were on long chains at normal height. Not this home. You must use a ladder or other means of help to change the bulbs. Mr S walked in from work one day & found me standing on the school table, with the vacuum beside me so I could clean the filter in the Daikin. Which didn't phase him, most likely because the day before he'd found me on the table trying to replace bulbs.

This weekend I told him I had an idea. He asked if it was a good one or a bad one, I told him to shut-up. All in jest my friends, all in jest. My children told me off for saying shut-up. It was not in jest. One suggested I wash my mouth out with soap, the other pointed out that it wouldn't effect me because I drink vinegar every day. I digress.. The point is that we had this massive 160 inch growth chart that needed hanging up so Jayden could start labeling it. Only, I'm not 160 inches tall & neither is Mr S. I knew that our ladder would never reach that, & besides our ladder is in poor health. What I really needed was Dad's never ending ladder which is a story all it's own, & I obviously don't have. Instead I thought, "lets put the school table in the lounge & a bar chair on top o fit & see if that will work." It did not. Mr S still couldn't reach the ceiling, & friends he's not short, in order to help me hang this thing up.

He had a better idea, in which I tripped on a lego while helping him carry out. Yes, we own more then one table. In fact, we own enough tables that Mr S thinks I have a table collection to rival the former pram/stroller collection we use to have. I have neither, but that's probably arguable. The point is, we stacked the smaller table from our dining room onto the big school table & shoved a bar stool on top of that. Then Mr S climbed up on the whole ramshackle thing while shouting, "Don't you dare let go will you?!" & I of course said, "No, of course not, I will not let go unless of course something really important happens!" "What could possibly be important then saving your husband from impending doom?" "Wow, impending doom? Have you been reading a book?" "Don't be ridiculous I don't have time to read books, I've been reading the Reader's Digest." "Oh, do we have the new one all ready?" "Are you holding the table!" "Of course I'm holding the table, now quit complaining & be sure the chart is even. I'd have to have to climb up there myself & fix it." "I'd like to see you try!" "Would you?" "No, on second thought I wouldn't. Just tell me if it's even." "Okay." "NO! Don't let go of the table!" "You told me to check & see if it was even though!" "Can't you just decide from where you are?"

Of course it's absolutely no fun to see such a structure in the lounge room unless everyone can have a turn climbing on it, right? This, coming from the boy who use to scream when I laid him on a changing table to dress him. No, scream might be too light a word. Serious fear of heights. Of course he's not squarely on the chair, but he's not screaming either.

Then Jayden attempted it, & decided to inform me the ceiling fan, which is beyond high, was a little dusty on the side I obviously can't see from the ground. In fact his exact words were, "Now stay calm Mom, but I have some bad news you're not going to like. The fan is dusty, I mean like really dusty. I think you might want to come up & have a look!" "Why would I want to look if it's dusty?" "So you know I'm not joking around." "Mate, you shouldn't have told Mommy that the fan was dusty!" "But Daddy it is!" "There are just some things it's wiser not to tell her about." Me, I was too busy looking for my extenda pole with dusting attachment, turns out they took it to the tip shop.. might explain why there are some things one should never tell their mother.

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