Wednesday, June 20, 2007

I Will Swear...


Hello, it's DaddyM here. You may remember me. I used to post here but recently I've been too busy with er... really important stuff so that I haven't had time. I can't actually remember what really important stuff it was, but it definitely happened and everything. It's not that Olivia isn't endlessly enthralling and constantly doing things worthy of note, but I've been up to my eyeballs in a big project at work, so I've had less time to Blog during the day, and time doesn't exist at home any more, at least, not in quantities large enough to actually do anything, but I'm going to give it a go now.

If you've read my blog before, you may recall that DIY tends to make me a little sweary. This is down to a couple of factors - my general incompetence at DIY and the inability of flat pack furniture makers to write instructions that make any sense whatsoever.

Olivia has a new cot. It's a lovely big Shaker-style cot/bed thing with a dropdown side that should hopefully do her until she's about six or seven. Not many pieces. Should have been the proverbial piece of piss. Was it? Was it fuck. As I say, I'm not the greatest at DIY in the world, but doing a few screws up is normally within my limits, so that wasn't the problem with this thing. It was all going along perfectly fine. I had the two ends, the bottom and the static side all done. Just the drop down side to do, so follow the instructions and all will be well.

The instruction booklet shows a diagram of how the sliding mechanism on the dropdown should engage with the retaining screws on the two ends. Unfortunately, it is not a diagram that actually makes it clear how you are achieve the effect required without having to force the dropdown through angles that are clearly not good for the paintwork. Presumably this thing can be constructed without damaging the paintwork and it's probably quite easy when you know how. But we're not going to show you. You have to guess. It was at this point that I first became quite sweary. Eventually, I did manage it and I didn't damage the paintwork either. It just cost me half a finger and any respect my wife might have for me.

It is soon after this point that you read instructions like - and this is completely true - "Pull the bottom of the end away from the dropdown until it slides into place". Eh? But in a previous step you told me to bolt piece a6 to b7. At no point in this procedure did you say, "Oh, but don't do the bolts all the way up because you'll need to make a half an inch gap leeway to slide in the side in the next step", did you, you twatmungous fuckbollocks?

Anyone know any good relaxation techniques?

At long last it was done, with a cost of some skin and some dignity, and it does look most splendid. It will look even more splendid when it goes into Olivia's own bedroom in the next few weeks. This will require dismantling it.


I feel some swearing coming on...

3 comments:

  1. She looks so tiny in it - awww.

    So, er, why did you put it up since you only to have to dismantle it again when her room is ready? Was she too big for the last one?

    Another one for your 'everything you need to know' book, K – how long can you squeeze a child in a cot in your own room before they need their own?

    ReplyDelete
  2. She was waaaaay too big for the other one. Also everytime she kicked her legs the whole thing wobbled violently and I thought it was going to fall apart.

    ReplyDelete
  3. It looks great, so nice work. But, yeah, don't get me started on the cribs. I ended up having to file down one rail to get the blasted mobile/light/boop-boop music device on it. I didn't even really want the m/l/b-b thingie, but it's the controller for the vibrating thingie, which we did want after reading Happiest Baby on the Block. Yeah, we never used the vibrating thingie either, so now there are two sweat-and-curse-filled grooves in what would be the headboard of 3B's baby bed if we ever converted it from a crib. If we don't light it on fire and pitch it off our balcony first.

    ReplyDelete