And this is why we can’t have nice things…

I had a friend/coworker who used to say this every time someone broke a dish at the restaurant we worked at. I use the phrase occasionally in a joking manner. But man, the past few weeks, it seems like this has become my mantra. Maybe there really is an old ghost somewhere in the house messing with us.

Putting Oli’s bed together was a bit of a nightmare. Those things aren’t really easy to put all together in the first place, with having to hold the pieces up in exactly the right position in order to screw them together and having a husband who doesn’t understand this concept. I misplaced the instructions (probably in a box with scrapbook stuff or something). So I was having to figure it out from memory, only this time we weren’t attaching the front rail. Then the pins were to big for the bar that is just supposed to slide in between the two sides. Husband and I tried to adjust it and ended up just scratching up the wood. Lovely.

I think I already mentioned the China cabinet that survived the ship only to be marred during it’s reconstruction in the living room. And my hallway will have to be touched up as it got scratched up presumably with the furniture coming into the house.

A and I managed to not destroy the fridge when we (I) decided we should switch the doors to open from the right. You know, the side that the kitchen is actually on. However, this made us a little bit cocky. I thought maybe we could change the door on the washing machine. It’s a nice little front-loader that we got from a relative. A found a manual online for a similar model put out by the same company. But since he didn’t find the real one, he hadn’t made time to read it. Thus the screws were unscrewed from the plastic latch on the front of the washer. Klink, klink. “Oh no, there must have been bolts on the back of the screws! Ok, abort the mission.” Fast forward one week. We now have the tools needed to connect the washer to the plumbing (we needed one of those little ring things that you tighten with a screwdriver). Everything gets connected and screwed and tightened and plugged in. Turn it on and… nothing. The start light just blinks. I swear I heard a click, but nothing happened. Is the water on? Yep? It’s clearly plugged in. Hmmm… So we finally get online and search for the right manual. Manual says that the blinking light means the door isn’t closed. Hipcheck the door, it’s closed. Well, how does it know that the door isn’t closed? I don’t see any buttons or anything… Oh maybe that what we heard fall last week…

So now I have just resigned to unpack the rest of our things, wait for the bedroom furniture to arrive, call a repairman and drink heavily.

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