Richard Hearn is bouncing back from DIY ridicule

An up and down weekend.
Yes, I was assembling a trampoline. (Note to self: cross one off the list for next year’s homemade crackers).

The trampoline was one of those large ones that they ‘didn’t have in my day’ – am I sounding old? – but The Boy loves them when he goes round his friends’. Three advantages: The Boy and Youngest™ would enjoy it, they’d get exercise and it would wear them out. Surely a good idea.
After researching sizes and prices we ordered and then read people’s reviews of assembling it. There was much mention of it being a two person job, and taking two days to assemble. (In my head that meant if I managed it in under 4 days I was doing well).

I realised the two-person aspect may be a problem, knowing the time I’d allocated to assemble it. Chances are it would be myself and The Boy and Youngest™, and they don’t really count as a person, even together. They are, after all, fictional characters I made up for this column. (Not really. Had you for a minute there though, didn’t I?)

It was delivered in a dense box. Opened up, the packaging resulted in two cardboard canoes, ideal to keep Youngest™ and The Boy occupied and away from the ‘construction zone’. It was important they didn’t get too close, not because they’d get in the way but to avoid them being in earshot of swearwords.

I started after an early breakfast and was still going when their Mum produced their lunch to have outside. Any house job that straddles mealtimes I consider should be significant enough to show up on estate agent’s details. An attic conversion or a conservatory, perhaps.

Four hours. That’s how long it took me. I got less stressed assuming it would take two days and coming in under, than if I’d underestimated it at two hours. However, when I mentioned this on Facebook, everyone came out of the woodwork to say how much better they’d done. Some people I hadn’t heard from in months; I wouldn’t have known they were still alive if it wasn’t for their ridicule! Next time I’m lost in the Alps, I won’t send out an SOS. I’ll tweet that I’m thinking of putting up some shelves. At least that’ll open the lines of communication.

“Next time I’m lost in the Alps…I’ll tweet that I’m thinking of putting up some shelves”

After some initial trepidation on behalf of Youngest™, they’ve both been very much enjoying it. The no-shoe rule is being adhered to, although this has resulted in a new game involving the socks coming off too, bouncing up and down alongside them (and then getting left on there). By Sunday it was resembling the world’s largest – and most difficult to assemble – sock drawer.