Pull-up Bar

A few weeks ago, Mary opened a box that contained a brand new pull-up bar. Apparently Mary wants to get in shape or stay in shape in the upper body.

She dumped out the contents: straight bars, curved bars, handles, long bolts, short bolts, lock washers, and acorn nuts, along with a small crescent wrench and an Allen wrench.

“Oh, crap,” she said.

“What’s up?” said Mom.

“I didn’t know this had to be put together.”

Mary opened the folded sheet of instructions, which were printed in seven languages, including Tagalog and Chinese.

Mary tried using the French instructions and then moved on to English.

Mom and Amanda gathered around her, offering suggestions. This went on for three or four minutes.

I just stood there. Then I said, “Hello. Why are y’all trying to put that together when there is a dad over here who has been to Ikea, like, eight times?”

“Are you saying I can’t put this together?” said Mary.

“Well, if you put that together within the next ten minutes, I will blog about it.”

So, I’m now blogging about it. It’s a great pull-up bar. Mary can do more pull ups than me.

Sorry about the delay, Mary. It has been a busy month.

Joy likes to bang stuff. For some reason, she has plastic, Disney-themed plates and saucers in her toy box. She likes to throw the plates into the bathroom because they make a loud noise when they crash into the tile floor.

“Hey, Joy, you think that’s a Frisbee? Because it’s not,” I say.

“Whaa?”

“A Frisbee! It’s not a Frisbee! It’s a plate.”

Whoosh. Clatter-clatter!

“Yeee!”

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