IKEA-d You Not

I should really stop putting off writing until 11 at night. Because then I am tired and I don’t feel funny. Let me rephrase that. I don’t feel like I can write funny (I may or may not actually feel funny). But my last two posts were super lame so I feel like I owe it to my audience (Mom) to write something more entertaining. So here goes.

(20 minutes later…still haven’t written anything)

(40 minutes…)

So once Mom and I were trying to put together a table from IKEA. Despite our Scandinavian heritage, the included instructions proved hard to understand. We were part way through assembling the legs of the table when we realized we had missed a crucial step.

It was almost midnight at this point and it may have been wiser for us to call it a night and come back to the table in the morning. Unfortunately, we were both too stubborn for that and we were determined to assemble the table before going to sleep (the same stubbornness is driving me now).

We took the legs off the table, turned the directions right-side-up and started again. After that, it was a bit easier to figure out the table. But after the table came the chairs.

20 minutes later, we had two chairs partially put together and we were in hysterics on the floor. Nothing was even that funny, it was just the kind of laughing as a coping mechanism you do when something is so ridiculous and frustrating and absurd that the only proper response is to laugh.

Whenever Mom and I both get to that point, everything is funny. While I don’t remember this specifically, there is a good chance we laughed about everything from the instructions to the way a certain screw was shaped to how the other person looked laying on the kitchen floor.

It was during a lull in laughter that Mom heaved a big sigh and said, “I’m tird”

“You’re a turd?”

“No, I’m tird!

After saying it again, she realized her mispronunciation and we dissolved into laughing puddles on the floor once more.

I honestly can’t remember if we finished putting the chairs together before going to bed but “tird” is now family cannon.

Tird is a step beyond tired but right before exhausted. We also usually only say it after sighing dramatically and plopping our head onto the other person’s shoulder.

Tonight I am tird.

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