IMG_0145Not the Bucket List. The List of Stupid-Things-I’ve-Done-In-My-Life-Because-I-Was-Too-Proud-to-Ask-for-Help. I bought a new bed last week. It was on sale.  A great deal and super-comfy. But I paid for it before I said, “You do deliver to our neighborhood, don’t you?” Why did I say it that way? Why didn’t I just say, “Tuesday will be good for delivery.” ? The clerk might have felt sorry for me and agreed to send her crew one hour away into the middle of nowhere to deliver my clearance rack mattress and box springs. But nooooooooo. I gave her an out. And she took it.

So, after work this Saturday, I was determined to bring home my treasure. My husband had a severe migraine. Point Number One: I could have waited for a day when he was well. First, I tried to rent a small U-Haul, but the computer kept charging me 79 cents per mile instead of 7! I gave up. Point Number Two: I should have called the company back and clarified.

Instead, I went home and got our short bed pickup with an attached tool box taking up one third of said space. And off I went on a glorious fall day. The sun was shining for the first time all week, the trees were gorgeous, and I felt empowered. Then I had a long, delicious lunch with Serenity Beth and even took time to watch her boys jump in leaves and climb trees. Ahhhhhh. Eventually, I strolled to the truck and went on about my errands.

After I hit Wal-Mart and the grocery store, I pulled up to collect my bed. A boy came out to load it, assisted by his grandmother. He was skeptical of my pick-up. “This is a big bed,” he told me. Point Number Three: I should have listened.

I was only two miles out of town when the load began to shift. I was driving twenty miles an hour, and still the wind was catching the mattress and flipping it up. I pulled off on a dirt road and examined the situation. Then I did the first sensible thing I’d done all day. I called my husband. Without even seeing the situation, he understood exactly what was wrong with the load and exactly how I needed to reload it to fix the problem. He was 45 minutes away and the sunny day was beginning to threaten with clouds.

Instead of calling one of the dozen able-bodied male friends I have in town, I panicked. I called Serenity and ask her to bundle up the grandsons and come help me. She looked like the cavalry coming over that hill in her sporty car and her high heeled shoes. And we did it! We rearranged the load. W strapped it down with a dozen strong cords brilliantly supplied by my husband who believes if one if good two is better.

I still drove 40 miles an hour and didn’t make it home before dark. But I made it. And the bed is magnificent.

Point Number Four: I should have taken that bathroom break before I ran out of small towns.