Marriage is full of give and takes. It’s a fine art to know when to stand your ground and when to yield. Mostly, that means trial and error.
For example, our living room TV decided to give up the ghost after the last power outage. It was on while I drank my coffee on a Saturday morning, and after working in the yard for about an hour, I came back in and found it off. No amount of coaxing, combinations of remotes, plug/unplug sequences would bring it back to life. Hubby was certain it was a fuse, but to take it apart would be quite the production.
I had to go to Sam’s anyway, so I took some measurements, looked up their stock on-line to compare specs, and when I went to the store, looked at what was available. We were replacing a 60” LCD, and they only had one model that size, but several a size down at 55”, which I was willing to do. Either way, as electronics are wont to do, they were about 1/3 of the original price some 3-4 years ago.
I returned home, debating the options in my head, ready to go buy on Sunday, or even the following weekend. Two weeks into a new job, I was usually too exhausted when I got home anyway. I had just put my feet up and started to read when Hubby came in. He sat down in his chair and stared at the blank TV.
“Well, if you know what you want, we’d better go get it.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
“Nope,” he turns to the dog, “Momma’s gotta have her TV.” Me? Well, whatever.
We head to the store, and I show him the options.
“Too small. You won’t like it.”
“But that’s the exact size we have now.”
“Are you sure?”
“I measured it this morning, diagonally and cabinet size,” I answered, trying to stay calm.
“Well, if you’re sure. But I don’t think so.”
I went to get help loading the beast, as neither of us could handle it. By the time I returned with some muscle, he’s standing there, shaking his head.
“This is too small. You won’t like it,” he repeated.
I know my husband. Once he gets that look in his eye, it’s no use arguing.
“Ok,” I said, my tone anything but conciliatory. Then I turned to the young man helping us. “Give me a couple minutes to pick out a larger one.” Clearly relieved to get out of the line of fire, he went to go find a flat cart. By the time he returned, we had settled on a new model 65” that had just come that week.
An unplanned $300 extra poorer, (yeah, that was the 5” difference), I pull up to the loading zone, where we tried to muscle the box into the backseat area of the Silverado 4 door pickup. It’s 1.5 inches too long for the doors to close.
“Now I know it’s bigger,” I grumped. “The last one fit.”
“It’s always better to go bigger than smaller, don’t you know?”
We’re both panting and sweating by this time. It was 98 degrees officially, which meant the parking lot was around 101. Even the wind was hot. I opened the tailgate, and we stood there, trying to figure out how we were going to lift it up.
“You folks need some help?”
A chorus of angels singing wouldn’t have made me happier! “Please,” was all I could manage.
The middle-aged man was another customer, and he helped my husband get it in the truck bed and secured.
Once home, after a bottle of water for me and a beer for him, Hubby spoke the dreaded words, “We might as well get this over with.”
The old TV came out and invaded my office space so he could work on it later. The new one came out of the box in the carport, and the measuring tape came out – again. Three inches too big for the entertainment center.
Fortunately, the entertainment center is adjustable. Unfortunately, it’s made solidly and is heavy. A cracked shelf and lots of grunts and swearing later, the new TV was in place.
Exhausted, we sat in our chairs and crashed. Some nature show was on, I think, but I was too tired to care.
“You were right about the size,” came the tired admission. “I’ll know to believe you next time.” There was long pause. “But this picture is a lot better.”
By the way, on the old TV? It wasn’t the fuse.