A few weeks ago, SH and his friends moved our dining room table for a video they were making. (The friend was running for a local office and SH was helping on the campaign. They shot the video at our house because the friend has a baby at home, etc, etc.)
They moved the table against the wall so they could set up the shoot.
They promised they would move everything back.
Probably because SH was hyperventilating when they first moved it and didn't trust them to move it back, plus now that he is in charge of vacuuming, he decided he should vacuum the rug.
So for a few weeks, the dining room has been all askew and it has bugged me and I have been suggesting to SH that we move the table back and he has been telling me he is too busy.
Tonight, as SH was walking up the stairs with a handful of chocolate covered coffee beans and as I was closing down my work computer - I worked from home today because I had oral surgery in the morning and it's probably not a good idea to drive with two valiums and half a vicodin in your system, even though valium does not relax me and I was completely aware that Dr S was cutting a piece of flesh from the roof of my mouth, I sprang to my feet, ran to the hall, and said, "Let's move the table!"
"I'm busy!" he protested.
"It will take one minute," I said.
"But we need to plan for this!"
"No we don't. All we are doing is moving the table. It's not that complicated."
"But you should have warned me!"
"Why? If I had said something earlier, you would have said you were busy then and to ask you again when you weren't busy. Then, if I would ask you again, you would say I was nagging."
He laughed. "No I wouldn't."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. You would. Because you do that all the time."
"But I'm busy now!"
I shook my head. "No. Come on. This won't even take a minute. Look - I've already moved the chairs."
I stepped around between the wall and the table.
"No!" he said. "No! You can't do that side!"
[Do you see why I am exhausted most of the time? There is way too much drama in this house. Honestly. The growing up that SH must have had that every single little thing had to be scrutinized and criticized and analyzed and criticized again. The main activity of his dad is assigning blame and criticizing.]
I sighed and moved to the other side. I was not emotionally invested in a side. I just wanted to move the darn table.
We moved it. Was it centered under the chandelier? Did we want it centered there? We couldn't remember where it used to be.
But it looked fine where it ---
"No!" SH said. "Look. Here are the marks from where it used to be. We need to move it back two inches."
From start to finish, including the arguing, it took us 97 seconds.