On this episode of CRIBS....

While I may be somewhat of a handyman (at least in my mind’s eye) although Shannon see’s my skills as somewhat lacking in both being handy or in any perceived skills; I pride myself on my ability to put together difficult puzzles without looking at the instructions nor seeking any wisdom or advice from others.  What I mean is that who, as a child, didn’t try to force that round peg into the square hole?  While most would have been unsuccessful in that venture, I on the other hand excelled at breaking (literally) down the puzzle to ensure the piece that I believed fit did in fact fit. 

 

Surely, Noah wouldn’t have believed that building his Ark inside his home would be a good idea thus he built his outside where space isn’t a premium but why would I follow such wise advice?

Well, in one of my first acts of pending (doom) fatherhood, I decided to put together the crib for Baby Jones by myself.  While I must admit that I am rather proud (dusts off shoulders for further congratulations) of my accomplishment to put together the crib without any help or instruction, I do have to admit that I may have been bested by those pesky things called door jambs.

You see, in my exuberance to put together this first true sign of fatherhood, I decided to build the crib where it was most comfortable for me to do so.  This of course would be the front room (man cave, time-out room… call it what you will) which in terms of proximity to the baby’s room would be equivalent to Noah building his Ark in the Arctic Circle.  So there I am, in all my splendor, slaving away whilst doing such tasks that only can/should be accomplished by such a skilled builder as myself until (cue climatic music) doom struck.

Doom in this case would be when I realize that while the front room may have been comfortable for me to construct such a masterpiece, it also has the luxury of having French doors.  So the initial move of the crib proved to be easy.  Then I get back to the Baby’s room and realize that the French did not decide to venture any further in my house than that front room thereby leaving me with only American doors elsewhere.  And who says the French are adventurous?

Therefore, I was left with the dilemma of either A) leaving the crib where I dropped it, in the dining room or B) dismantling my masterpiece so that it would make it into the baby's room.  I did give idea A some serious thought as I think I read somewhere that most baby’s are required to eat so what better place for them to be than in the dining room?  But that idea was quickly dismissed by Shannon and I guess pregnant ladies get a fair shot at vetoing most of my “brilliant ideas”.

Therefore I was left with only one option and that was to dismantle what I spent hours slaving over.  Luckily, in my master-builder’s eye, I figured I only had to dismantle a portion of the door… errr, I mean crib in order to get it to fit within the confines of a standard-sized door.  The crib is now where it was meant to be until Shannon decides that it would look better on the other side of the room…. No wait, over there… no, I think I liked it better back where it was, etc.

Now the next task is figuring out what furniture stays and what furniture goes…