The chipmunks birthday is coming up soon, it’s hard to believe that it has really been a year already. We are trying to come up with ideas of things to get the guy
“How about a play gym?”
“How about a wooden table and chairs for him create things on?”
As Hot Mama is mentioning these things, I realize these things aren’t going to come shipped ready out of the box. They are going to need to be put together. Chipmunk won’t be able to put them together so who better then to assemble them then, ME!
I should have seen this coming, the crib and the changing table were just precursors to the dreaded statement of….
“Here you go dad, put it together!”
Don’t get me wrong, I love putting things together just as much as the other dad. Then the wife had the bright idea of the play gym could be put together in the basement during the winter for him to play on and then when it is warm enough we can put it back up outside for him. First, I thought this was a grand idea! He would actually use it all year this way. Then, I got to thinking who is going to be the one who has to de-assemble it and then put it back up outside! That is right, ME! Twice a year now I’m going to have to take it apart and put it back together. (Before Hot Mama thinks that I do not want to do this, I want to, I really do)
Women, you know your husbands don’t read the instructions on how to put anything together. I’m one of those guys. Who needs instructions? Ok maybe I needed them when I put together the table that was in our entry way so that my wife and son wouldn’t have to hear me yell….
Twice, as I put it together wrong, not only once but twice!
I probably needed them when I put up the broom holder in the garage since I put it up, upside down the first time and it wouldn’t hold the brooms. Who do they make the instructions for? Dads, just like me, who don’t want to read the instructions.
Alright, so one of the things I have learned is that I need to read the instructions. I should probably read them when I put his play gym and table together so he doesn’t fall flat on his butt. But who can guess if I will read them when I put the chipmunk’s birthday gifts together?