For someone who takes great joy in thinking things through in a practical and careful matter, it is shocking to me that I can sometimes be so very stupid and impulsive.  During times of great boredom, anxiety or sheer frustration, I often come up with these absolutely brilliant ideas that end up biting me in the booty in reality.

It usually goes a little something like this:

Hmmm. Things sure are quiet around here with the boys all sick.  What to do, what to do…

(casually look around)

Well, maybe I’ll read a book while the boys are occupied with Spongebob.

(walk upstairs to get book)

Oh look there’s my bed.  Hey! I’ve got a great idea! Why don’t I move this big old queen size bed down two flights of stairs all by myself? Brilliant!

(proceed to take apart bed, the noise of which attracts the boys who insist on climbing all over disassembled parts to “help”)

Ten minutes pass along with some blood sweat and tears, and the bed is finally downstairs. 

(stop to look around in pride and call my little sidekick Kyan down to see the results of my labor.)

In comes Buddy.  He takes one look around and looks up at me with his big brown eyes full of tears and says, “This makes me so sad, I love having your bed upstairs. Why don’t you want to sleep by me anymore Mommy?”

At this my heart breaks a little bit and before you can say, “Oh my God, what a SUCKER!” I disassemble the bed again and drag it back upstairs.

So, what lesson did I learn from this ridiculously wasted afternoon?  Did I learn that I should think long and hard before moving furniture and to wait until I get help to complete these tasks?

Nope.

I simply learned that it takes a lot more swearing to get the mattress back up the stairs than it did to take it down. And that, my friends was a lesson worth learning.