In with the old, out with the new...

I HATE allen keys.


Seriously. Having to put together my own new furniture, squeezed in around my old furniture, because the guy who wants my old stuff and was going to move it for me has split his finger like a banana between two boats and is busy having microsurgery is not fun.

BoyChild is so sick of me yelling ‘get your feet off the new couch’ that the last time I looked he had stormed to his room, slamming the door, and muttering something about putting his feet all over his furniture if he wanted to.

I may have to invest in plastic couch covers.
I am officially old now.