A few years ago I saw my father put more effort into Christmas than I had ever seen in the previous 40 some odd years combined. He had used letters from Alex’s (or Abby’s, God help me if it was Abby’s, “MOM they were MINE! NOT Alex’s…..” shadddddup) – anyway… he had wrapped a box containing stencil letters – the kids had to rearrange the letters to figure out their gift.
This doesn’t seem like a great, big deal but trust me when I say – it.was.HUGE. My dad is not a Christmas guy. I think it was maybe the first Christmas after mom passed, which made it all the more heart wrenching (I loved that he was picking up where mom left off, I only wish she had been able to see it).
Anyway, after some time and some really bad guesses (“it says, ‘I owe you one mountain due’! YOU OWE US A MOUNTAIN DEW????” – Calvin) somebody figured it out. I’d have to say it was Alex, Abby was only 5 and Cal, while brilliant, is a bit of a schlub.
Trampoline!!! TRAM-PO-LINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!!!!!
In the years following, the kids have spent a good deal of time on that thing. We expected it would become ‘old news’ quickly but – to their credit, the kids still use it quite a bit. …to the point – Cal jumped through it; well, just one foot anyway. If the fates loved me – I would’ve been there to witness this… As it is, Abby retells it as best she can between the guffaws.
So for months, the trampoline has been out of service – Abby and her 45 pounds soaking-wet physique (no way she’s actually mine) has been out there minimally and not able to really do what she likes to do (she’s our gymnast, that trampoline is her Mecca).
Weeks ago we ordered a replacement mat and the padding that covers the springs. They (and their shipping cartons) found a nice, comfy spot in our living room and made themselves at home for at least 2 weeks; yesterday, I’d had enough. I went out to take care of the replacement (Dan was doing a ton of cooking – for our anniversary I ordered crawfish, shrimp and gator sausage – with some local corn and not-so-local potatoes he did up a country boil. I was left to my own devices for the trampoline makeover).
I was, uh… struggling. There was sweating and swearing – both profusely. For those of you who have assembled a trampoline – tell me that shit doesn’t suck. For those of you who haven’t… that shit sucks. In that it was a day of the week – I was pissed at Dan… therefore, there was no way I could allow him to help… Alex on the other hand….
My girl and I got into a groove (using one spring to attach the next and so on) and had it pretty much licked when she said, “Mom I get to jump on it first – Abby always gets that kinda stuff. I helped so I get the first jump.” I agreed she had earned it but — sensing the inevitable argument (about the 1st jump and anything else they might discuss thereafter) I tried to be proactive.
jenius situation #1: “Hey now! I don’t want you guys out here fighting all the time…”
“wait… you DO or you DON’T want us out here fighting?”
This, my friends is the very girl who sat at our dinner table not a week ago lamenting about losing her 4 point oh (“I have a 3.95 – Yale is NOT interested in a 3.95”).
“Yeah Alex, I want you out here throwing down every day – knock the shit outta each other as much as possible. If you can get help and gang up on whoever seems weakest that day – that’d be good, too. Scream and yell while you’re doing it – let’s make sure the neighbors hate our bouncing guts…”
We had about 8 of 90 springs yet to connect when Pop showed up with Thing 2 and Thing 3… I just about blew my top when he jumped down and helped. ‘Ok dad, here… how about I run the ball 99 yards and flip it on over to you for the score…’ But, he’s a guy and my dad – he couldn’t very well NOT help (other than the time he and Dan leaned against my car while I changed the oil – you know, to make me a better person) – Alex and I just glanced at each other and grinned.
With the mat finally attached (Pop did the last spring bare handed – I was torn between being impressed and wanting to call him out on showing off) we decided to start on the padding. First of all, I asked Cal to bring the box to me (you see, I am actually borderline genius… I KNEWWWWW what was coming). The boy – who can hear a deer walking in the woods from 9,000 yards, didn’t hear me. He opened the box inside. And subsequently carried – dragged (drug????) – the padding across the wet, muddy yard (did I mention Brownie’s errant pooping affects the yard as well as our floors?).
There was yelling.
As we completely unfolded the mess Cal handed us – I noticed it was a perfect circle; my question is – why in the hell would they make it a complete circle??? It.is.a.replacement.part. – not intended to be put on during installation but after installation. Briefly: it goes between the poles (attached to the frame) and the netting (attached to the poles) – without going into extreme details or including pictures it’s tough to explain how this situation nearly broke me.
Dad and I were disassembling perfectly good working parts – not so happily – when Dan came over and…
jenius situation #2, “isn’t there an opening? You could just wrap it around…”
Remember how I mentioned I was ticked at him anyway? This did not help his cause. “oh, hell yeah it has an opening jackass… but that seemed way too quick and easy….”
We never did get around to tying the padding in place… Oh! and the first jump? It was all Alex… after Abby said, “take the first jump, I don’t care… I stood here and boinged my hand up and down on the new trampoline for a while… but yeah – you get the first jump.”
We’re assembling a gang tomorrow – chains, brass knuckles, the works – gonna beat the snot out of her when she’s in mid-back tuck.
Love it!