You know how you do something stupid and tell yourself you'll never to do it again? You let a lot of time pass, to the point where you forget, and then you go and do that stupid thing again?
That's me and "some assembly required" items.
I decided to buy a new barbeque this year. It has been about seven years since the purchase of my last barbeque. Repressed memory?
As soon as I put the barbeque box in my vehicle, it became clear. I was in for a frustrating, wrist-aching time.
I wasn't quick to bring the box in the house, or at all excited about putting this thing together. I had to be in the right frame of mind. So I drove around with the barbeque in the back for about two weeks before I brought it in to piece together.
In order for this to be less of a frustrating experience, I decided to treat it as a life-sized LEGO set. Why is it that LEGO is always fun to put together when there are so many parts, and you have to follow instructions, yet, although it's the same concept, throwing together a barbeque is a cause for a drink? I vowed I wouldn't resort to drinking and building.
I break promises.
So, I mixed myself a drink, pulled out the parts, the handy little bubble pack of nuts, bolts and washers, and the cheap tools they expect you to put their product together with, then stood there, staring at the many un-identifiable parts.
I always cringe at the words "some assembly required". It's never just some, "some," to me, means putting a lid on, maybe wheels, not assembling the entire barbeque.
Step by step it started to take on the form of a barbeque. Being left-handed and on my own for this little adventure of assembly, I had to use my head.
Literally.
My head became a third useful appendage. It became the carpenter's helper, so to speak. I needed my left hand to turn the screwdriver, my right hand to put the bolt through the hole and my head to hold it all together.
After two hours and a few drinks. I was done.
It was together.
I looked back at that handy little bubble pack of nuts, bolts and washers. I only had two left over bolts.
How? I followed all the instructions. I shouldn't have any leftover pieces, especially bolts. I figure, if it falls apart in the near future, I will know where those bolts were supposed to be.
The true test of my "some assembly required" abilities was in the first go at barbequing. The steak was delicious. The barbeque stayed together and the fire department stayed away.
WIN!
The best advice I will ever give my boys will be this: buy assembled products and have it delivered. You'll pay more, but it will be worth it.
I will have other advice for them, but none of it will be as important.
