I am the Queen of multi-tasking. While I have no problem being a lazy slug, if I do find the energy and motivation to do something, I tend to double up on the activities. I hate to sit in front of the TV without having some kind of project to work on. I get antsy if I can't write or read while I'm stuck in a doctor's office or waiting in line at WalMart. If my hands are engaged with a task, I make sure my brain is also occupied. I'm sure this contributes to my list of Flashback Friday incidents more than I would like to admit. I mean, if I was actually giving something one hundred percent of my attention it's less likely that any accidents or disasters would occur. But really, where is the fun in that?
MC works in construction and remodeling. As such, he often brings home things that people are getting rid of, things that are still perfectly fine but aren't the top-of-the-line, brand new model that his customer wants. Maybe they are remodeling their livingroom and have decided to update everything so MC will come home with a TV or a couch. Or they are going with the front loading washer and dryer so now we are updating our own appliances with their castoffs. It's a system that works out pretty well for the most part. Usually what he brings home is newer that what we had. It saves us money and him a trip to the dump.
A few years back, we acquired a refrigerator. But not just any fridge. This thing was massive. It was a side by side monstrosity that could hold a small village of children inside but looked really sleek on the outside. It was the Cadillac of refrigerators--stylish, yet indestructable. And I loved that it was black.
Free appliances and furniture are always a good thing. The bad thing is that I'm the only one who's around when it comes time to unload. Between all of our moving and acquiring of new/used items, I've had a lot of hauling experience. I don't remember how we got that fridge into our kitchen but I'm sure it was a production. Thank you, God, for dollies--and husbands with great biceps. In the middle of getting it situated in the kitchen, my sister called on my cellphone. Now, a normal person would say, "Hey sis, I'm trying to move a 2 ton appliance across my kitchen. I'll call you back." But I am not a normal person. Wait, that doesn't sound right. What I mean is, I am the Queen of multi-tasking, remember? I can move a fridge and talk on the phone. Piece of cake.
MC worries about things like scratching up the floors when moving furniture; I think worrying about it slows us down. However, I usually lose. So we use these round discs that slide under the feet or corners of furniture and allow you to slide it across the floor without leaving scratches or marks. We got those out and proceeded to work them under the corners of the fridge. My timing and coordination was off a bit on the last one and I'm willing to admit that it may have had something to do with the fact that I was still talking on the phone with my sister. Trying to get that disc in just the right spot when MC tilted the fridge back and I was balancing a cellphone between my ear and shoulder was not an easy thing to do. Which explains why I didn't get my hand out of the way quick enough when MC let it drop. Right on my finger. I let out a scream, an actual burst-from-my-lungs-at-top-volume scream and dropped the phone like yesterday's garbage. It took but a second for MC to realize something was wrong and he got the fridge off my poor, wilted fingers. The excruciating pain told me there was no nerve damage and when I could bend them again I was happy to discover there were no broken bones. Unfortunately, I had scared the wits out of our kids and my sister. She heard me scream and then the phone went dead. I dropped it with enough force that it turned my phone off and she was frantically trying to get through to find out what in the world happened.
Eventually everyone was reassured and the fridge was put into place. And I learned a valuable lesson. Next time I move furniture, I'll make sure my Bluetooth is on.