A Christmas Memory

“Connect floor panel B to sidewall panel 102 and press firmly, first making sure the ridged surface is facing up so that outer support R35 has access to the recessed screw hole in floor panel Z. You have got to be shitting me! Who in the world were these directions written for? Einstein?” Tom exclaimed. He was about five minutes away from chucking the whole thing into the fireplace.

Ellen came walking calmly in carrying cups of hot chocolate for both of them. “Tom, you have got to try and keep the noise down a little. You will wake the girls. Now what seems to be the problem?”

“These directions make no sense. I am starting to get really pissed off here.”

“Let me take a look at them. What happened to your hand? Did you cut yourself?”

“In a way,” Tom explained, “I accidentally drove porch support 23 through my palm while trying to untangle the power drill bit from the shag carpet. It looks worse that it really is. I just wasn’t able to get the bleeding stopped right away because I think I may have passed out for a moment when the other end of porch support 23 jammed into an empty light socket on the tree giving me a shock sever enough to throw me against the wall. I’m better now.”

Ellen examined the wound and then the directions. With a sigh, she sat down next to her husband and they both went to work. By 6:00 a.m., the project was complete and the couple fell asleep in each other’s arms on the floor near the tree.

Ten minutes later, the three girls came screaming down the stairs. Tom and Ellen watched as the triplets launched themselves enthusiastically at the new Barbie Dream House.

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