(I apologize for the lack of posts this week. The past few days have been busy-bee days around the house, and I haven’t had time to sit down).
The carpets that originally came with our house were unpleasant, flat, and grimy. Over the past few years most of the carpets have become stained with paint, soda, cat and dog pee, and other questionable liquids.
Kyle and I pulled out the carpets in our rooms years ago. We both found that the carpet glue riddled linoleum put down by the original owners back in the fifties was easier to clean than the rugs had ever been. Similarly, the rug in our living room was pulled up a year ago, and replaced with a gleaming hardwood floor.
We have two other rooms in our house – Michael’s, and our parents. On Saturday it was time to replace the rug in our parent’s room.
I had been excited to work on the project ever since my dad and I remodeled the closet in their bedroom. My dad, apparently, had different ideas. He had imagined finishing off remodeling their room with Kyle. Some father-son bonding thing that I can’t exactly say I understand.
But I ended up getting what I wanted.
My dad and I, as always, were the first two awake. We finished moving the furniture out of the rents’ room and into Michael’s, and then we pulled up the old rug and threw it out back.
Kyle, in his infinite wisdom, had pulled an all-nighter (playing games or watching TV shows, or something like that) Friday night, and thus was incapable of coherent thought when my dad and I crept in there Saturday morning. Since our sun porch is full of wasp nests, and I’m terrified of things that fly (and the night before our dad had mowed the lawn and pissed off a couple of yellow jackets nearby), we decided that it would be Kyle’s job to put the rug into the sun porch. (If I were still in college, it is likely that the smelly old rug would have been crowded into my room).
Kyle’s two syllable response to our 9am wake-up call was a sleepy, “Goodnight.”
My dad and I were on our own.
But the long day wasn’t too bad, and even Michael pulled himself from his sheet-cocoon (surprisingly not at 7pm) to help us first place the padding over the cement floor, and then to lay down and even out the new rug.
Once the rug was finished, we went to work on nailing down the new baseboard and paneling around the closet. All the work was finally completed around 7pm. Just in time for me to drive Michael to his friend’s house for a cookout. (Mind you, we had pizza and hot wings sitting on the table since 5:30 waiting for us to finish up and eat it).
That was when The Teenager struck again.
Michael wanted me to drive him to his friend’s house, and pick him up with enough time for him to get home by 8. I tried to explain to the boy that by the time I dropped him off, and got back home, I would have to turn around again and pick him up. I tried to tell him he was unreasonable, and at least make him agree to staying two hours. He refused.
Exhausted and starving, I finally caved, dropping him off and heading back home. I had hoped to steal a piece of pizza before leaving the house again, but instead I helped my dad move a few things around. Then –back to the road.
Except when I tried to pick Michael up, he informed me that he was staying an extra hour.
I think the fact that I did not strangle the boy says something about my character.
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