Trashed Table

My kids…they are always finding new ways to surprise me. I have this old drop-leaf table my great-grandfather gave me. It is beat up and perfect as our “craft table” for the girls. I have said on numerous occasions, “They can do anything to it.” A lesson to you all: anything is a pretty broad term, and I suggest you avoid using it in any circumstance from this day forward. You just cannot conceive of all the possibilities anything encompasses.

Let me set the scene. We are sitting in the living room having a “family party.” This is when we eat dinner, popcorn, ice cream, etc. and  sit watching a movie at our illustrious craft table. Then Sylvia does something Melanie doesn’t like, Melanie goes to climb on top of the table to put her precious belongings out of her destructive sister’s reach. Sylvia shrieks in outrage, and I look over and see the table casters, which start to move, and the back legs begin to lift. It all happens so fast. Imagine me yelling “Nooooooo!” in slow motion (crazy deep voice) while leaping, arms extended, off the sofa in a futile attempt to stop what is taking place before my eyes. The table legs fly up, and the table goes down. The extended leaf clips both chairs, the chairs fly feet backwards through the room, and the girls go down with the table and come smashing to the floor. The wood splinters, the hinges hyperextend, and popcorn and crayons go flying up through the air. Melanie has a bump on her head and Sylvia a fat lip where their bodies collided with the table. The girls are bawling in pain, and I am simply holding them, horrified and thinking to myself how did anything turn into this…

My parents came into town this weekend, and my father has now taken our beloved table with our prayers.  Hopefully he can repair it to it’s former glory. We have gleaned two important lessons from this experience.

Melanie has learned not to climb on tables, particularly ones with wheels, and I have learned that kids can do anything.


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