No Tools Required

Books, Books, Books. In a family of readers and small children who love to be read to, there are bound to be books. My house is busting at the seams with books. Over the last year all of the books that the older girls have outgrown have migrated out of their room into mine. They were piled high on my radiator, against the wall and on top of every flat surface. I was drowning in books. And because I have two children who will want to read those books someday, I can't just donate them.

Time for a new bookcase.

My 12 year old and I were at Target yesterday for the express purpose of buying her a bathing suit. I hate Target. Why is it that even though I have a list firmly in hand I always leave that place with an additional $100 worth of stuff that I had forgotten I needed?

Like a bookcase. It looked like just what we needed. For the low, low price of $30 I bought a 5 foot by 2 foot, "faux" mahogany, assembly required bookcase. In large print across the front of the box were these words: NO TOOLS REQUIRED. Worked for me.

Now, you should all know that I do own tools and I know how to use them. I just care not to unless there is an emergency. I do not assemble things. Bicycles, toys, puzzles, crafts. But how hard could it be? Really? I planned on following the directions scrupulously. Unlike my ex who took it as a point of pride never to read directions. Much swearing and anger always followed. I, on the other hand, was going to be in harmony with my bookcase.

As I unpacked the big box, one child after another wandered over to investigate. Well, that's not strictly true. The 14 year old never felt her place in the sun reading on the couch. My son hung around for maybe five minutes. No power tools, not interested. The little one bounced back and forth between watching him attempt to leap over a home made ramp made of firewood on his scooter to "helping" me. It was my darling 12 year old, Eleanor, who rode to her Momma's rescue. Without her help the bookcase would be but a pile of ashes in the driveway. I would have torched it.

It started out well enough. All of the pieces seemed to be in the box, all clearly labeled and all three packets of Small Parts were also accounted for. Excellent. We actually made great progress up until the point the I had to connect part H to Part G only to discover that I had installed one of the selves, the all important middle one, upside down. It was at this crucial juncture that I got out the first tool. I handed Eleanor the screw driver, asked her to see if she could get the top of the bookcase unattached for the bottom and went to pour myself a glass of wine.

Things slid downhill pretty quickly from there. The low point was reached when I could not get one of the stupid little plastic peg thingies to go all of the way into a hole. "Hand me the hammer, dear." It did not matter how hard I wailed on that peg thingy, it was not going into the hole. But the other 2 did, with the help of my handy, dandy hammer. And right out the other side. We only discovered this upon righting the bookcase. Whoops.

Thanks to the patience and grace of my daughter, the new bookcase is now ensconced in my son's room. It is not a thing of beauty but I will grin every time I see it. It is now loaded with books. "Son, here be treasure. When you figure out how to read you are going to have a blast with these."

And next time, and there will be a next time, I am going to throw myself on the mercy of my talented 12 year old. I will cheer her on if she will assemble.