I’m not the most technically adept person in the world. I got a D in my 7th grade Drafting class when my toothpick-and-marshmallow bridge failed to meet federal and municipal building codes by collapsing in a sticky, pointy heap on the teacher’s desk. I was so depressed, I didn’t even eat the marshmallows afterward. So I was perhaps inordinately proud of myself when, this past Sunday, I successfully assembled our new double stroller, which involved screwdrivers, wrenches, instructions written by engineers, and bits labeled “Bar A2” and “Hole 7”.
After fitting everything together and gently applying pressure to see if the result would implode or shatter, I snapped in our hand-me-down carseats (thank you, Annika and Diane!). I called Husband in to applaud my handiwork, then parked the stroller behind the couch and went to bed.
I found this when I came downstairs the next morning.
I’m so glad someone values my work.