Clean Sweep, part 2

As you may recall from last week, my sisters and I (and spouses) had begun a clean sweep of my parents’ house. At the halfway point, we had succeeded in, essentially, turning my parents’ house into massive piles of quasi-organized rubble. Calling it off at this point was not an option. We were in too deep.
My sisters decided that one thing that needed to be done was to switch around some china cabinets. And, as is usually the case, the cabinet in need of the longest move was the one that weighed approximately the same as a Ford pickup truck. Fortunately, it was two pieces, so it was only like moving a couple of Ford Escorts. Once we had the gargantuan piece moved, my sisters opted for 40-50 new locations to try out, just to ensure that my brothers-in-law and I had ample chance to bang our knees, crush our hands in doors, etc. We appreciate the spreading of pain wealth.
The next big issue was the consolidation of all of the stuff that we had pulled out of closets, drawers, etc. My mother’s collectibles (owls and turtles, if you recall), were in need of sorting and filing. I sort and file things thusly: If it fits on a shelf, it goes there. Apparently, my sisters have a different approach to decorating, and ordered me (along with my brothers-in-law Jim and Keith) to the garage to, in their words, “do something out of the way.”
In the garage, we decided we should probably take on the most sensible task for guys relegated to the garage, which was to begin drinking beer. When we realized it was 9:30 in the morning, it occurred to us that we might want to pursue a different endeavor.
We decided to split up on some different projects. Jim took on the garage. Keith went in to hauling items as directed. And I complained about the line for sausage biscuits at the fast food restaurant. (Everyone has a niche.)
By lunch time, we were starting to see glimmers of progress (however fleeting they may have been.) At one point, I stood in the den, the bookshelf halfway put back together, and noticed that my one sister, who had been working in there, had moved on to a different room. At this point, Overbearing Mike had to make a stand. “CAN WE NOT FINISH ONE ROOM BEFORE MOVING ON?”
Based on the convergence of angry sisters and wife who immediately appeared before me, I quickly realized the answer was “no.” It turns out, Saturday was still on the sorting and disassembling mode. Sunday, I was very firmly informed, would be for finishing.
By evening, we were starting to see real progress. My wife and sisters decided they would set off to various stores to track down rugs. Jim, Keith and I were instructed to begin plans for the “Message Center.” The message center was a shelf placed over a table in my parents’ den. Below the shelf would be a plywood + wood frame + corkboard contraption that would be secured beneath the shelf. Someone with design talent (read: not us) would affix a calendar, notepads, pens, etc. And the crowning achievement would be a hidden window shade that pulled down to conceal the message center. It’s actually a very cool contraption. Although, upon seeing it, my parents first made a face that made us quickly say, “No, we didn’t put a window into the bathroom on the other side of the wall.”
So when the rug hunters came home, they entered the garage, where we had been working on plans. Thinking they would be pleased with our detailed planning, imagine our shock when we were greeted with, “We leave you alone for two hours and all you do is drink beer!?!?!?!” Imagine the reaction had we started at 9:30. We tried to explain that the beers in hand were simply a reward for detailed planning session, a comment that was met with a disapproving “Hmmph.”
On Sunday, we were ready for the homestretch. Things were really coming in to place. Pictures were back on the wall. Shelves were inhabited by turtles and owls. Life was good.
About 5 p.m., my parents pulled in the driveway. The look on their face was priceless, mainly because I can’t put a price on the look of sheer helplessness and terror my parents tried to mask, wondering what their insane children had done inside their home.
Once they got inside, I am pleased to say they were thrilled with what we had done. Or I am pleased to say they are terrific actors. We did assure them that we had not thrown out anything of consequence. (We could tell they were concerned about that. One of my dad’s first question: “Hey, where’s my dog!?!?!” Some trust he has.)
In all, I think the weekend was a success. The house is clean swept, my parents have their home back and, hopefully, the dog will turn up soon.