It looked so simple on TV!

I have passed on all the congratulations to Sam, & yes, I do know how fortunate I am to have a son like him (even if he does occasionally drive me to drink Glenfiddich straight from the bottle!) Plus, I’ve learned that the proverbial apple doesn’t fall far from the tree: this morning, Chris had to do a road call to Modesto first thing, so he didn’t have to leave as early; while I was in the shower, he made breakfast for all of us- bacon, maple sausage, blueberry muffins, & cranberry compote (the 2nd batch I made- we love the stuff)
We got the headboard finished Monday night & I have to tell you, it turned into a typical family circus event. As I’ve mentioned, there are three hairless felines & three furry people in our house, so anything as important as a change in the main sleeping abode warrants full participation from every member. The board is 6 X 4 foot, with rounded corners on top, which was to be swathed in two layers of batting, topped by a fabric cover with some simple trim. Because the weather has turned cold, instead of working in the garage, we decided to assemble the headboard sandwich on the dining room table.
Once all the supplies were accumulated, the inspection commenced- each cat had to look in each box, crawl into every bag, lounge-test the fabric, sniff the tools, & naturally, drag the trim all over the living room.
After we re-assembled the supplies, the first step was to spray adhesive on the board so the batting would stay in place whilst I stretched & pulled the fabric into place. Have I ever mentioned that the cats have a strong aversion to any kind of spraying devise? I didn’t think it was possible, but 3 animals went in 7 different directions in the matter of seconds. Since this stuff was rather odorous, I opened the doors & windows, so we had to bundle up in coats while we worked; Sam stood with a piece of cardboard against the edges of the board while Chris sprayed the glue- so, of course, every exposed area of skin (ie, hands, face, hair) is being lightly coated with sticky adhesive. Once the spraying stopped, our curious little Dahlia was right back in the middle of everything- literally. Before anyone could grab her, she leaped on to the glue coated board, realized she didn’t like the feel of this stuff, & tried to walk away, but her paws were tacky; she looked like she was walking thru snow or wet grass- step, lift paw, shake- with all fours. As soon as I quit giggling, I took Dahlia into the kitchen to wash off her paws, accompanied by pitiful wailings from her & sympathetic mutterings from Poppy, who hates to see anyone in distress.
So now we are ready to attach the fabric. We measure,
spread,
adjust,
confer,
re-measure,
spread again,
consult,
argue,
re-re-measure,
fiddle,
fudge,
then finally begin to staple. Chris lies under the table, on his back, with the staple gun; along side him is Daisy, in her basket. She is an old lady- about 13 years- rather arthritic & weighting in at 16 pounds; she doesn’t move around much & spends most of her days in her basket. It was obvious to her that she wasn’t going to move (though she did flinch every time he shot the staple gun) so Chris just scooted around her; but every time he moved too close to the basket, she would “Mew!” & either pop him on the head or lick his hair. Meanwhile, while I am pulling, folding, & holding the fabric in place for Chris to attach (narrowly missing my fingers) Sam is alternately plucking Poppy off of the headboard, where she is trying to settle in for a nap & nursing session, & moving Dahlia off Chris’ chest, where she is supervising his work, grabbing at stray threads, & tickling his face with her tail.
Amazingly, we manage to finish without any trips to the emergency room or the liquor cabinet. Sam went up stairs to wash off all the spray adhesive, bits of thread, batting, & staples that had attached themselves to his skin. All that is left is to glue on the trim… which I find is a full 36 inches too short. Okay- not a problem- that part of the board will be behind the bed, so no one will ever see the trim anyway. Except, I will know it’s not completed. Have I mentioned I’m an anal accounting geek & seriously don’t like shortcuts? It is 7:45 pm & I’m considering a run to Walmart to see if I can find another trim that would match (since we don’t have a fabric store in town & the Michael’s is closed due to a fire last week). Cooler heads prevailed (Chris said “You are not going anywhere!)- I fought my nature & glued the trim from the top down, securing it with pins to dry. Ten minutes later, as I sat in the living room with a glass of wine & two Oreo Double Stuff cookies to placate me, Dahlia strolled in… with the trim in her mouth & draped across her back. The trim covered with glue. Which is now drying. My first mistake was to yell, “Turbo- you stupid cat!”; the second was to start chasing her. It took all three of us to find her, catch her, & the cut the trim out of her fur.
When all was said & done, we have a passably attractive headboard, & Dahlia is sporting an interesting haircut. The last little bit was taking the headboard upstairs last night. We maneuvered it up the stairs, around 3 sharp corners & into place against the wall, where fastened it with brackets to the foot moldings. It was then I realized that the solid headboard would be blocking the only outlet on that wall (which we never use). The outlet that will be needed for the pump on our new bed. Our new bed that Chris doesn’t know about yet. CRAP! So now I have to convince him that we have to remove the headboard & cut a hole in it to free up the outlet, all with out spilling the beans- it came down to me insisting on doing things correctly. With a great deal of muttering about stubborn women, the boys took the headboard back down to the garage, cut the hole, re-attached the fabric neatly around the opening, haul it back upstairs & screwed it back to the wall.
Ah, the things we do for love!