…More Than Sweet Potatoes

If it’s not thought out, the thought doesn’t count so much

You know when people say “it’s the thought that counts?”  Well, I call bullshit on that.

Not always and entirely, but in many circumstances, the thought only counts if you thought it alllllll the way through.


For example, if you think that buying someone a gift for their birthday is a nice thought, but don’t consider the fact that what you’re getting them is something they hate that they now will have to fake appreciate and then return or re-gift, it’s not really that thoughtful, now is it?

Of course if you don’t know they’d hate the gift, it is the thought that counts… whatever, semantics…

Quite some time ago, my boyfriend at the time and I were spending most nights together; playing Parcheesi and chess all night long – obviously.  One night we were playing a board game and apparently we had gotten very aggressive because the box spring snapped in the middle.  We actually didn’t know what had happened at the time, but we knew something was wrong.  The bed felt less supported toward the middle.  Being the handymen we clearly are, we decided “fuck it” and went to sleep.

I woke up in the morning when he kissed me goodbye and left for work.  I think I laid in bed a little bit before the dip in the center started to bother me.  A lot.  So I got up, showered, got dressed and drove to Home Depot.  I was determined that my inborn carpentry skills would be enough to fix whatever was broken.  I clearly flipped the bed before going to buy tools and wood so I knew what I was working with (no, I actually didn’t) so I was prepped and ready!

At Home Depot I settled on 2 2×4 planks about 6 feet in length, a hammer and nails, and a pack of u-shaped brackets large enough to hold two 2x4s together.

I drove back to the apartment smiling and proud of myself.  I was going to fix the broken bed!  I was going to do it while the boyfriend was at work!  I was going to save the day!

But I forgot one very important thing… I wasn’t able to get back in to the apartment.  I didn’t have a key, and all the roommates had normal day jobs and were not home.  And I didn’t have the forethought to leave a door or window unlocked.

I found a parking spot on the street near the place, got all my tools and supplies out of the car and walked up to the door hoping that sheer will power would unlock it.

It should come as no surprise that it did not work.  So I set all the items down on the stoop, and proceeded to walk around the building trying to find a window that was cracked or a sliding window that would open.  I climbed the fucking wall, you guys.  I was SERIOUS about this.

About an hour into exhausting all breaking and entering options (which really disappointed me and still disappoints me all these years later,) I took myself to the gym, ran a few errands and got back just in time to sit on the back balcony and pout.  Finally one of the roommates came home and let me in and I went to work at about 430pm knowing full well I had about an hour and a half of time to complete my mission and I went balls to the wall.


That middle thing that goes the entire length of the bed…that is what we broke.

I propped up the bed to find the middle board that runs the length of the bed had snapped in the middle.  I was sure I could fix it.  I grabbed the hammer and nailed one of the 2x4s to the broken wood from end to end with about 15 nails down the length of it to ensure it’d hold, then I used the u-shaped brackets on either side of the break.

When the boyfriend returned home at the end of the day, his room was in shambles but I had just finished my task and I was so incredibly proud of myself.

He just stared at me.  I don’t know if he was thankful and as proud of me as I was, but he didn’t say a word.

We put the bed (and bedroom) back together.  With a “dare me to?” grin and a nod from the boyfriend, I took a running leap into the bed ready for another board game session.

And the fucking thing snapped and the middle sank to the floor.

And I cried.



And I learned to use screws and an electric screw driver (or a staple gun) for all future building/carpentry sessions.

And the boyfriend assured me it was the thought that counted and he thought it was sweet that I tried to surprise him by fixing it before he got home.  That said, the fact of the matter was that now he had to buy a whole new box spring that he may not have had to had I used the correct tools or really thought it all the way through.


3 comments on “If it’s not thought out, the thought doesn’t count so much

  1. Ben Cotton
    July 3, 2015

    If it makes you feel any better, I doubt you made the box spring any worse. I 💙 your stories.


  2. mollytopia
    July 3, 2015

    In this case the thought TOTALLY counted! You tried REALLY hard, and I love that about you!


  3. markbialczak
    July 4, 2015

    The best thing about this story, Deb, is that you are cool enough to both break a boxspring by playing board games aggressively and want to fix it by your own hand. Enough said. You’re a winner.


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This entry was posted on July 2, 2015 by in 2009, Blog, blogger, Blogging, Chicago, Crazy, learning about me, sadness and tagged , , , , , , , .
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