While most people store their Christmas boxes in an attic or above the garage, our special living situation has allowed for special Christmas storage as well. Our Christmas boxes are stored one floor below us in a dark and mysterious walk-in closet. It's about the size of a typical walk-in closet in a home, but ours is separated into sections and we share it with 15 other apartment dwellers.
It's become normal to us, but fetching stored items is anything but typical. Wife and I have to use a key to get in. Once in, we have to turn the light on with a special timed dial. It starts to tick like a time-bomb as soon as it's set as it counts down the seconds. We turn the dial to the estimated minutes of required light then navigate to our locker. Our storage locker is secured with a combination lock which I can never remember the combination to. It's even harder to conjure up numbers with the tick,tick,tick,tick of the light-timer in the background. The small task of opening up a combination lock turns into a McGyver-like bomb diffusing situation. I begin sweating and breathing rapidly - just trying to retrieve decorations.
Once in, I sit patiently as pregnant Wife decides which boxes stay and which go. When the waiting and ticking get to be too much, I get caught up in the situation and yell a quick, "If you don't decide soon, this place is gonna blow!" She says no words, but uses her crafty eyes to tell me to calm down or she will calm me down.
With the boxes all selected, it's time to leave this mind trap and go back up to our suite. That's when...
Wife: Hmmm. You can't carry all those boxes; you're not tall enough to see over the top. Let's make two trips.
Me: What?
Wife: Take half up now, then we'll come back down and get the rest.
Me: Are you doubting me?
Wife: I'm being sensible, and smart too. You think you can get all that?
Me: Think? Just grab the door and watch out.
It wasn't the weight that made carrying everything so difficult. It was the fact that I couldn't see anything at all. From a distance, I looked like a 6 foot box with legs. It didn't help that the Christmas bells in the box kept jingling every stride.
It would have been smarter to make two trips. Why not make two trips? Here are a few other direct quotes from Wife:
"You can't carry that dresser into the bedroom, you'll hurt yourself."
"You can't carry that to the car, let's take the cart."
"You can't carry all those groceries in, we'll come back down and get the rest."
"Don't stare at all the scenery while driving, you're gonna get in an accident."
"Don't walk across the frozen river, you're gonna fall through."
"You can't carry all those groceries in, we'll come back down and get the rest."
"Don't stare at all the scenery while driving, you're gonna get in an accident."
"Don't walk across the frozen river, you're gonna fall through."
And so on.
In response to those suggestions: the dresser was carried, so were the groceries, the scenery was admired, and the frozen river was traversed.
In response to those suggestions: the dresser was carried, so were the groceries, the scenery was admired, and the frozen river was traversed.
Concerning as those comments may sound, they're phrased like that for a reason. What Wife is really trying to say is, "I don't want you to carry the dresser, because I'm afraid you'll get hurt." She's just looking out. Trying to make sure her man doesn't do irreversible damage to himself as a provider for the family. She's kept me out of trouble more times than I can count.
The concern is much appreciated, but there is something about a man and a challenge. Maybe it's an ego thing. Accepting and conquering challenges makes a guy feel like a guy. Maybe it's so that I can hear my son someday say:
"Wow, my dad walked across that frozen river."
"Cool, dad just carried that whole dresser in there by himself."
"Dad didn't even need a cart to carry that out of the store."
"Did you see how many grocery bags dad had?! There were like seven on each wrist!
As I write this, a friend (http://cneading.wordpress.com/) just tweeted about grilling in the snow. Smart? No. Sensible? No. Fun? You bet. Challenge accepted. Game on.
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