Happy Wednesday everyone. Tomorrow is Cinco De Mayo, so after I tip back 3 too many margaritas, Friday is going to come awfully fast. And I cant wait. We went out last weekend to hit up some furniture stores in search of a new dresser. The dresser we had been using is the same dresser I have had since I'm 2 years old. Broken drawers, missing knobs, old necklaces jammed into the corner of the wood, its a real beaut. So we headed over to some local stores and checked out the goods. The husband found some huge ass dressers he "loved" but in the end, we ended up buying a Chesser (half dresser, half chest) on the spot from Raymour and Flanigan. We arranged to have that badboy delivered on Monday when I was working from home and sure enough, at 11am on Monday, the delivery truck pulled up with two men and in came the chesser. Only these men, who deliver large furniture on a daily basis, were idiots. Lets back up for a second. Our house has a stairway directly in the middle and a bit of an overhang above the steps. The chesser is taller than it is wide. These morons try to lift the chesser through our hallway and up the stairs, the long way. With the legs still on. They look at me, and they say, and I quote, "it aint gunna fit". Well no shit sherlock, you are an idiot. So I make them back down the stairs, take the legs off, and reposition the chesser, so now they are carrying it the long way (thats what she said) up the stairs. And low and behold, it makes it with no problems at all. Clearly these two deliverymen had parents who did drugs.
So now we have this beautiful chesser in our room and it looks HUGE. Like way beyond what I remember it being in the store. I say this to the husband, and he agrees, although we have purchased a floor model which translates to "we are stuck with it." It does have a ton of storage though, so thats nice. Cut to last night around 7pm, I hear the husband upstairs sounding busy. I race upstairs because this, my friends, is something that excites me. I find him picking through a large pile of his socks, which have been spread out all over our bed. And he is picking through the socks, one by one, like they might fall apart if he moves too quickly. I immediately situate myself on the bed and start asking questions like "why do you have so many socks?" "Why do your socks have holes in them and why are you folding them?'' (seriously who the F folds socks?) 30 minutes later he has finished moving his socks from our old dresser to the new chesser. I go downstairs because he is obviously going to be at this until midnight and watching it is making me want to scream. This is the man who will wear a stained shirt and drink old milk, and he is folding his socks. Unreal. Cover your heads people because the world is ending. 4 hours later (really it was about 40 minutes) he comes downstairs with random clothing, throws it in a bag and tells me not to touch it. I wait til he goes back upstairs and i touch it all, pawning through it for stained/ripped clothes that he is going to try and keep. I take out the paint stained waffle shirt and throw it in the trash. I feel so much better. So now, here we are on Weds and the old dresser is cleaned out, and the new chesser is loaded up with his goods.
While we are on the topic of new things, here are some other additions to the house: