We thought it would be a simple stapling job. Half an hour, tops. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Nope.
It was the archetypical "five minute job" in which the client -Capt. S.- seriously misunderestimated how complicated the job was.
Have you ever tried to tailor-cut wood with a staplegun? No? That's the kind of job we had. We needed tools and the ones we had access to were lost, broken, rusted, or incomprehensible.
So of course that necessitated a visit to the mecca of the home handiperson, Bunnings. Which, in turn, wasted four hours of our remaining day because -shit- Bunnings. It's a wormhole of dimensionally transcendant complexity that just... eats your time. You gotta spend half an hour trying to unravel the math of the universe inherent in two different packets of visually identical screws, fam.
That's just how it is.
Today, I have something of a birthday celebration to attend. New friends, new place, new social complexities to unriddle. The usual. The kids are staying at home and ganking our interwebs data. Beloved is offski back to Capt. S. to teach her the fine art of growing some confidence with power tools.
Because everyone needs that.
Power tools are firkin useful and knowing how to work them is just sensible. I did offer to teach Mayhem a little, but he declined. Maybe Chaos will learn in due time, I dunno.
Either way, there will be a time when they have to learn. I just hope to be there to help them out when it comes.
And now - I write.