While I was initially against the fixing of the dresser, I appreciated his motivation and determination. Last night he finished it, and wanted to have it moved in before he left for another trip this week. Naturally, if we were going to take the time to bring it in, I wanted to take the time to set up our bedroom semi how I wanted it. At 10:30 pm he indulged me and moved our bed to every wall in the room. I fell in love with it being angled in the far corner. The asymmetry threw him off, and he couldn't let the waste of two feet of corner space slide. Aesthetics vs. practicality. We compromised and the bed ended up back where it had begun.
Next came moving out all the boxes so I could get a feel for the space we actually had in the room. Again, he indulged me and cleared the room out as I sat on the floor and happily chatted away with my hands on my seemingly ever growing baby bump. After thoroughly discussing the placement of our nightstands - which are different sizes - we landed on a place for the dresser. I not-unkindly laughed as Brian brought in the monster by himself. Impressed - I was very impressed and slightly amused.
He showed me all the changes and fixes he had made to make the dresser work, and all my skepticism faded away as I was again impressed by his achievements. All five boards had broken in different ways and he had managed to find a way to fix each one of them (and match the paint color).
Sadly, all our enthusiasm began to quickly unravel as one by one the drawers went in, and one by one they weren't quite fitting right. Like I do in all bad situations, I burst out laughing while Brian laid down on the floor in frustration. We sat there, me trying not to laugh too much and he decidedly not losing it (I'm pretty sure he would have taken a bat to the dresser had one been lying around).
We sat there and talked. We talked and laughed about nothing ever working out. We looked at the dresser and laughed some more - mainly me laughing. I tried to offer some encouragement saying it looked like it belonged in a cool hipster movie. His rebuttal was that it belonged in a crappy junk yard.
The night ended with me sending him my favorite craigslist picks - my top choice naturally being the furthest away. And I smiled to myself as he beat me to bed while I finished up whatever I had on my mind to do. The eve of three years together - he has lovingly learned to put up with all the things I have to have just right that cause him extensive extra work, and I've learned to appreciate and respect his efforts regardless of my initial opinion or their outcome. It's a far cry from our many arguments over board games our first year married. We've learned to take in the moments together - horrible and great alike. That's the best part about being married - it's not one against the other, at odds with each other - it's the two of us together, tackling all the odds side by side.
And side by side is where we'll always be. Happy three years B-mar!