Or this is how I'm told the kids turn things into verbs these days...I'm in UsHaus now, waiting for the ridiculously loyal friends the Dutchman roped into moving me on Easter Sunday to come with the moving van. As my bed isn't here I had to sleep in Dutchman's old small bed - honestly I don't know how I'm able to move today, his mattress is a dire saggy affair and I'm sure the springs tried to impale my spleen in the night.
That meant having to face my old adversary: stairs. I haven't had to do stairs in such a wide hallway in a while. Normally I go down sideways and lean my back against the wall while clinging to the handle grip for dear life, but this house isn't set up like that - there's too much space between the handle and the wall, and I actually looked down at the stairs with a weird sense of vertigo and panic. I haven't needed to try and tackle stairs for seven years now, because my last failed attempts at stairs ended up with me a crumpled heap at the bottom.
I managed to make it down all right, but I'm under strict instructions not to try them again on my own (last night was necessity - the house itself is being set up so everything I need is on ground floor). But my son's room is on the first floor and I will probably have to tackle it again. Anyone got any advice? We rent so a stair lift is out of the question. Sidestep? Rappell line? A sledge?
In the meantime, I'm here at home after Dutchman promised I would make one of loyal friends a tray of cinnamon rolls (a speciality of mine). However all his supplies are out of date - I gave it a try, but they ended up being swirly paperweights so I choked one down with coffee (because Dutchman hasn't done any shopping either and there's no food ...yeah, this is a thing he does) and I'll wait until they get back.
Ah, domestic bliss