Today, we were welcomed home with 6 big boxes. No they weren’t from a secret admirer, they were brand new bunk beds I bought for the boys from Sydney only two days ago. I was told they would turn up sometime next week, but somehow, they arrived today. So the boys were excited and ‘build a bed’ we did!
Somehow, we had to get these flat packs to look like bunk beds. And on a 37 degree Celsius day, it wouldn’t be pretty. I tried to get both boys to help, but my sorrowful little one has been up and down with tonsillitis over the last 11 days and doesn’t seem to be getting better, so he, when he felt right, was in charge of the rubbish clean up.
We put the ends together first, but somehow, still got them a little wrong and had to pull them apart! My 11 year old was happy working the allen key, while his brother pretended to lying in his bed (or the fortress that makes up the top bunk!)
At this stage, it was still early days, as he’s smiling. It really wasn’t until we had to put the slats on that we realised how much work was involved.
Here is the pale faced sickie, still in his PJs!
Here he is having a break while I slave over the tiny little screws that need to go into each slate. (Would have used the power drill to screw them in, but it wasn’t charged!)
After the first row of hand screwing the little screws in, the power drill was ready, and I powered my way through the rest of them. Just wished I had an allen key drill attachment (and please don’t write to me telling me that I could have easily put the allen key in the chuck of the power drill… otherwise I will cry, my hands are that sore!)
Finishing touches – putting on the ladder.
And after it was all put together, we went down to the mall and bought some new bed linen – a grey Union Jack for the top bunk, and a word map of the City of London on the bottom bunk..
Now we just have to make the trundle… think I might leave that one for the weekend.
I am very proud of my little helpers, especially my 11 year old who went out of his way to make my life easier. And then my 9 year old sickie gave us a much needed drinks break just when it felt overwhelming. The scary thing will be, whenever we move out, I just hope we can get it out!!