Of Beds and Broomsticks
So we purchased Annie a little toddler bed last night, and Ericka was so excited about it she began putting it together right in the living room (around 12:30am last night).
However, we soon found out that one of the pieces were missing drill holes that were vital to the bed coming together correctly. I, the Doubting Thomas of husbandry, assumed she wasn't reading the direction's correctly. I think it's testosterone that does that.
Anyway, we pack all that shit up and I throw it in the car and Ericka takes the thing back.
About 20 minutes later, she returns, hauling another bed up the stairs and into the house. "They told me if I had just brought back the piece that was messed up they would've replaced that."
"So we didn't have to pack all that up, struggle to get the open box down the stairs, and then have you drag it into wal-mart, get another, pull it up the stairs, and set it down right there?"
"Nope."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
However, we soon found out that one of the pieces were missing drill holes that were vital to the bed coming together correctly. I, the Doubting Thomas of husbandry, assumed she wasn't reading the direction's correctly. I think it's testosterone that does that.
Anyway, we pack all that shit up and I throw it in the car and Ericka takes the thing back.
About 20 minutes later, she returns, hauling another bed up the stairs and into the house. "They told me if I had just brought back the piece that was messed up they would've replaced that."
"So we didn't have to pack all that up, struggle to get the open box down the stairs, and then have you drag it into wal-mart, get another, pull it up the stairs, and set it down right there?"
"Nope."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
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