You’ll grow so much and learn so much, they said. You’ll be faced with so many new challenges, they said.
Like repairing a slatted frame on a Friday afternoon because the kids thought that you only told them not to jump on your bed because you’re a mean old sucker…
©Giliell, all rights reserved
You can see the part where the laminated beam broke completely through. Mr will visit Ikea on Friday and # 1 will learn about the value of money (that’s the equivalent of 7 Pokemon movies!).
That they managed to break a laminated beam suggests the jumping was enthusiastic and frequent.
Mr J and I managed to break a couple of legs of our bed at the time by falling on to it as we embraced, really killed the moment, though we did end up in a pile of helpless laughter, the kind when you think you have finally stopped laughing and the other person says something and you’re both gasping for breath, tears streaming while howing with laughter again. In our defence, we had never jumped on the bed, and the bed was thirdhand. We didn’t have any spare cash at the time so we removed all of the legs and carried on using the frame and mattress until we could afford a new bed a few years later. Tangentally that reminds me that the cost of things like furniture and white goods is proportionally far lower now than it was when we set up home, partly at least thanks (?) to places like Ikea.
But they were right, weren’t they? You are not bored and you do learn new things.
*ducks*
I learned how to make things by having to repair the many things I broke. My dad would tell me whether he thought I should glue it or replace it or patch it, and I already knew where the tools were.
There were some notable incidents.
We’re certainly never bored. Terrified, exasperated, infuriated, but never bored.
My mother broke my bed by tossing me on it when I was a kid. I was about 2 or 3 and was wearing a heavy body cast (it was the 60’s, pre-fibreglass) and it scared the daylights out of mom. I don’t really remember it, but Mom often told the story as a cautionary tale about getting mad at your kids.
I do remember jumping on my bed often after the damned casts and braces were gone. No one ever told me to stop. I think Mom was waiting for me to break it and scare myself, but Dad’s welded repair held for another 10 years until I outgrew the bed.
Have kids, they’re tender.
Before all that muscle-building bed-jumping, anyway.