It’s been an interesting week or two. As you can see from these photos my son took, we actually had fog following a big storm. Fog in Phoenix! It might as well have been snow–it freaked out everybody trying to drive in it.
Here is my son’s “Oh no look at the fog!” face.
Here’s our little porch with all the chairs.
Clover with lots of dew from the fog.
Looking out from our porch, across the green.
Anyway, when my son got his bed, for reasons unknown, he didn’t get a box spring. So his mattress has been precariously perched on this IKEA wooden rack thing that rested on the bedframe and held up the mattress. Except when you get five kids dogpiling on a bed, flimsy wooden slats tend to break. So his mattress has been a saggy mess lately.
I kept saying that I’d watch the dumpsters around here, and as soon as somebody tossed a box spring, I’d grab it. (Provided it was in decent shape.)
So today, I took the kids out for a walk to release their wiggles. We got allll the way down by the front of the apartments, when I spotted a box spring and mattress beside the dumpsters. SCORE. We’d just carry it back home, and …
Wait, box springs are heavy. And I have the upper body strength of a wet spaghetti noodle. The boys and I lugged and dragged and rolled that box spring the five hundred feet or so back to our apartment building. Just as we reached our sidewalk, my strength gave out, and we stopped to rest. As we were sitting there gasping, a man in gym-like clothes drove up and said, “Would you like some help?”
I gratefully accepted. Screw feminism–I couldn’t lift my arms anymore. The guy picked up the box spring in one hand and carried it to our apartment like it was a slightly inconvenient mattress-sized rectangle. I was able to drag it inside and get it on the bed.
So now my son’s bed no longer sags, and the kids bounced on it all afternoon with no ill effects.
But I still can’t lift my arms. :-p
My daughter’s Minecraft house, which for some reason wound up in my camera.