Monday, October 26, 2009

He broke the 10 cm thick wooden dinnertable

october 26 2009

This weekend the clock went back.
All times the clock needs to be reset I walk on the stairs to the place where it hangs, reset it, clean the lot, give the clock a polish and go my way back until I'm at the ground again watching with housewife's content to the shining clock.

It works well.

The father of the cvhildren is getting more and more autistic each year.
I have to run the family almost on my own and I have to deal with the problems he causes too.
Usually he arouses stress in the children by the way he deals with them, and I have to come in between.
He tell the boys they should consider the consequences of their actions, but he's never taken more than 30 seconds to think about what he's going to do.

This morning he felt irritated that the clock wasn't reset yet, probably because he isn't used yet to his own watch and the clock is more familiar to look at.

So he stepped on the table we bought when we moved in here 25 years ago.
It was a round table with a blade of 10 cm thick good wood.
In the middle there were two extensions, well supported and secured by 2 iron rails.

The kids have been dancing on the table without even a sound, at moments I was upstairs or outside busy with the laundry. They were not allowed to do so, but even before I had children I was aware how attractive tables and beds are to jump on.

This morning I woke up by a loud sound of cracking wood and rumble of falling tablewear.

He said he leaned with his knee on the table, but he had the clock removed, and he can't get it without his full weight on the table and standing on it.

I guess he was lucky with the fact that yesterday evening I put a huge pile of laundry on the table, so I could fold it this morning.
It moved to the lower part and I assume he fell on it. Otherwise he would have had at least a broken anckle. (Well deserved...grrrrr.....)

With a fever and dizzy I've been busy all morning to remove the heavy table.
My moving son has the equipment in his apartment, so I had no screwdriver, nothing, so had to use pure force to break the legs from the table.
As I'm the constructioner here and I never ever use glue for furniture, it was not as hard a job as it would have been otherwise.

The lamp is hanging above an empty space, where I will pile up what was on the table.

The same table isn't sold anymore, we need to have a new one.
Some of my favorite things are broken.

I am furious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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