Yesterday we rearranged the furniture in our house. Again. We really do it every couple of months. This time it was because we have so much of Writer Guy's furniture hanging out in the house right now.
We dragged everything out of the solarium, and mostly into the laundry room. We vaccuumed and mopped the entire space and then we dragged the big coffee table back there. We pinned the fabric onto the loveseat that was already back there and then set to work moving the giant couch.
First I measured, very scientifically... I laid down in the space where we wanted to put the couch and then I laid down on the couch and declared there were maybe two inches to spare, but it would fit. Then we made a path through the two downstairs bedrooms and set about moving the couch.
I don't know how it went through that last doorway. Kristie doesn't know how it went through that last doorway. Sheer force of will. We were both about ready to give up, fairly certain that either the couch or the doorframe was going to give out at any second. The couch was most of the way through the door at the time. We just had one more leg to get through but somehow the thing had wedged itself in the doorframe in a way that made it nearly impossible to move. One big lift and tilt, followed by a giant push and suddenly the couch was back there.
We put the cushions and egg crates back on (if you want to make a couch fluffy again, stick a couple egg crates under the cushions and over the back. The added friction also helps keep the cover in place.) and got the cover rearranged. Then we declared ourselves finished for now.
The giant television was still in the middle of the living room at this point.
Writer Guy called around six. He was about a mile away and angling for an invite. So, I invited him over. He ate a bowl of spaghetti-o's cold and then laid down on the couch in its new home. He began asking for a pillow, a blanket and a pie. I got the pillow and threw it at him. Then I went upstairs and grabbed a blanket and handed it to him. "You forgot the pie."
The next thing I knew, I was still cleaning the kitchen, but I could hear him asleep.
"Kristie, if I gave you cash, would you run to the store and pick up a graham cracker crust and a quart of whole milk and six eggs?"
I totally threw together a chocolate merangue pie while he slept. He woke up about two minutes after I put it in the oven.
"Your pie is in the oven"
"What? You're kidding"
"Look in the oven"
"Wow."
"Chocolate merangue. I think I am very funny."
While we were eating it, I said that I thought my grandmother was spinning in her grave over the store-bought crust. He informed me that he expected his mother to call at any moment to yell at him for asking a girl to bake him a pie.
After he ate two slices of the pie, he got up and moved the television to the table we had designated in the solarium. We hooked up the antenna. It's finished!
Then he told me "You do realize that now everytime I ask your for anything, I'm going to add 'and a pie', right?"
"You do realize that if you stay asleep until it's finished, I will drop it in your face, right?"
