
To say that I hate asking for help is an understatement of massive proportions. I hate, loathe, and despise it. In my experience, help rarely comes free. It comes with commentary, unsolicited advice, and expectations.
But I am one person. Although I am a strong, creative, resourceful, and capable person, I am still only one. There are some things in life that we weren’t meant to do alone. Like parenting. Or moving. Or single-handedly assembling a bunk bed.
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I stared at the two beds. I had kept them separate before because both kids were afraid of sleeping on the top bunk. They were older now, and we needed the floor space. I had a small window of time to get everything done without children underfoot. Dragging, pushing, and shoving them, I managed to get them to the spot on the floor that would accommodate a bunk bed.
F**K my life!
That’s all I could think as I tried to fit one bunk bed on top of the other. Every single lift and shift caused one bed to get caught on the other. This was a two-person job, and I was one person cursing and struggling to get the beds to align without help.