Today is father’s day! (Also Juneteenth, but that’s neither here nor there.) In honor of this occasion I’m reposting this story from 2004, from my old livejournal account. (With the punctuation and capitalization edited. Because, seriously, why did I ever think it was a good idea to write like that?) It’s a story tangentially about how awesome my dad is. So without further ado, the couch fiasco.
What do you get when you put together a Marky Mark, Michelle Uphoff, The Kari Kari, Mark’s house, Mark’s family, and one couch?
A huge couch fiasco!
So tonight after small group and mini golfing (a little after eleven o’clock, that is) The Funky Bunch came over and we attempted to get the couch (which we picked up from Michelle Chestnut’s parking lot) into my basement. We looked at the door into the house from the garage. Definitely too small. So we took it through the front door. The stairs up to the second floor are right inside the door though, so we had to maneuver it halfway up the stairs. And we left a few little marks on the wall there. They should rub off.
We got it through the kitchen just fine. The problem was the basement door. Not very navigable, that hallway that the basement comes off of. So, it didn’t fit. we stood it up edgewise and tried to navigate it around through doorways and we just couldn’t get it through the basement door for anything. So I decide it’d be a good idea to take the door off. So I start going at the hinges and I get one out without making much of a ruckus, but the other is going to be a pain I could tell.
About this time my dad comes down (in his robe) and he is like, “you gotta take the legs off that thing or it won’t fit” (Michelle and Kari were sure he was going to be pissed; I was like, “I hope my dad does come down because I’m sure he would know how to get this thing into the basement.” And my dad rocks so hardcore that that is exactly what happened). So we get the legs off (Paul was the one who figure out how) and get the door off and squeeze a bit and take some paint off of a door frame, but we for sure got that beast tamed and into the basement. After that, the chair we took was nothing.
So, with the exception of a back cushion for the chair (which we’ll go scrounge for later) I now have totally functional new furniture! And someone suggested I do stadium seating in my basement (maybe Caleb Simpson, but I can’t remember), so I just might have to try and get that set up there then.
And Kari didn’t think the couch would ever fit through the door into the basement, so now she has to pay for my game of mini golf. Mwahahahaha.
I don’t think we ever went back and got the cushion for the chair. Not sure if Carrie ever paid me for that round of putt-putt, either.
But I’m happy to have a father who has always been gracious and helpful, willing to put us ahead of his restful night of sleep. Thanks Dad! Happy father’s day.
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