Wardrobe Man came back yesterday evening with his Stripling Nephew. They removed some more bits from the wardrobe's body, and braved my eagle glare as they inched it towards the door without scratching the floorboards.
The exciting bit was the stairs, and I had to join in to prevent them smashing the window on the landing.
I noticed that every time I held on to a bit of wardrobe, the Stripling Nephew let go.
Aaargh!
At one point I was sitting on the stairs muttering between gritted teeth:'The wardrobe is resting on my knees. If you let go, my legs will break'.
At another: 'The wardrobe is resting on the banisters. If you let go, the banisters will break'.
The Stripling Nephew did not listen to women. He completely ignored me and did not make any eye contact.
Occasionally he listened to his Uncle, but mostly he tried not to lift anything, merely resting his hand gently on the wardrobe as if to pat it for being a good piece of furniture.
The Uncle was convinced that I had built the wardrobe upstairs, but I assured him that it had moved house with me several times.
On several occasions, the three of us stood there on the stairs, stuck and panting.
Finally, it stood in the hallway laughing to itself at our exertions.
They struggled it to the white van and drove off, after a dignified pause to collect themselves.
I don't think the Stripling Nephew has a future in furniture removals, somehow.
BTW, Richard Cundill sent me this link to a Chefs feature on his friend's blog
http://fruitierthanthou.blogspot.com/
I might tell you the story of the non-appearance of The Chefs CD this weekend.
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