So we cruised to Ikea, we found our computer table, I pointed at a million other things saying how nice they’d look in our flat, and then we went down to the market place department, grabbed a yellow big and I started a floor dash that made the contestants in Supermarket Sweep look lazy. I grabbed at clocks, pillows, throws, lamps and other soft furnishing, each time fixing He Who Only… with the evil eye lest he tell me I wasn’t allowed. He in turn dragged me hell for leather through the floor, trying desperately to avoid the sections I wanted to spend the most money in, and we arrived breathless at the other end to find our computer table, queue up, pay, buy hotdogs and chips and then get the happy bus back home.
Once safely home, we turned our attentions immediately to building the table. Veterans of Ikea building by now, we whipped the table up in a matter of moments, and then stood back to behold the glory of our work. We looked upon it, and saw that it was good. We congratulated each other at how brilliant we are, and then decided to move it into its new rightful place by the kitchen door.
And then. It happened. The karmic retribution that had been building up since Saturday night, when I had thought to myself “ha ha, I win”. We picked the table up between us, and headed towards the wall, He Who Only… holding the back and me holding the front. Moving to avoid a cable or two, we tilted it slightly, and without warning the sliding shelf bit that holds the keyboard on the computer table shot out of it’s moorings and landed - CORNER FIRST - right on top of my unprotected foot. RIGHT ON TOP. CORNER FIRST. On to the toe beside my big toe on my left foot. Initially, it wasn’t sore at all, but right after that the shooting pain that accompanies any kind of foot injury began to manifest itself. Summoning up all the training I have had from years of television viewing, I started hopping up and down on my right foot while He Who Only… looked on with concern. I didn’t think it was too bad even then, until I was ordered to sit down and take off my sock, all the better to examine the damage.
Holy Lord, ladies and gents, I don’t mind telling you that I was a little bit surprised to see the blood involved. My toe had already turned blue. This wasn’t good.
To Be Continued…
Once safely home, we turned our attentions immediately to building the table. Veterans of Ikea building by now, we whipped the table up in a matter of moments, and then stood back to behold the glory of our work. We looked upon it, and saw that it was good. We congratulated each other at how brilliant we are, and then decided to move it into its new rightful place by the kitchen door.
And then. It happened. The karmic retribution that had been building up since Saturday night, when I had thought to myself “ha ha, I win”. We picked the table up between us, and headed towards the wall, He Who Only… holding the back and me holding the front. Moving to avoid a cable or two, we tilted it slightly, and without warning the sliding shelf bit that holds the keyboard on the computer table shot out of it’s moorings and landed - CORNER FIRST - right on top of my unprotected foot. RIGHT ON TOP. CORNER FIRST. On to the toe beside my big toe on my left foot. Initially, it wasn’t sore at all, but right after that the shooting pain that accompanies any kind of foot injury began to manifest itself. Summoning up all the training I have had from years of television viewing, I started hopping up and down on my right foot while He Who Only… looked on with concern. I didn’t think it was too bad even then, until I was ordered to sit down and take off my sock, all the better to examine the damage.
Holy Lord, ladies and gents, I don’t mind telling you that I was a little bit surprised to see the blood involved. My toe had already turned blue. This wasn’t good.
To Be Continued…