Reed, you threw down a gauntlet that I just couldn't resist.
So, this weekend, Alan and I made a quick trip to Waco in our gas guzzling Suburban to help Bryce and Reed move into their new apartment. The back of the Suburban was filled with "stuff" that had been piling up in Reed's room - books, posters, clothes, a TV - in preparation for the move into his first college apartment, a bookcase, two old barstools rescued from the pile of garage sale stuff, and buckets of cleaning supplies.
I told the men on the outset that I did not intend to darken the door of Bryce's old one-bedroom apartment during the move. He and Reed have been holed-up there since mid-May so the place was sure to be rather...how you say...gag-a-maggot filthy. Instead, I appointed myself Official Unpacker and Arranger of the New Abode.
If I heard it once, I heard it a thousand times over the course of 2 days, "Hey! Where did you find that?! I thought it was lost forever!" or "I thought Reed had jacked that!" or "I was sure that Bryce had permanently borrowed that!" or "I thought someone had stolen it!" Lost and stolen items tumbled out of laundry bags stuffed tight like extra firm Beauty Rest pillows, boxes of junk that hadn't been opened in over a month, and obvious places like messy dresser drawers.
Which brings me to an bit of "college ingenuity" that I stumbled upon - not in the bottom of a laundry bag, but hanging on a hanger posing as a clean dress shirt. Apparently, Reed hadn't seen his "stolen" cufflinks for quite some time and was forced to solve the problem creatively. I knew that all those years of Destination Imagination would serve him proudly one day.
When I first polled the boys via text message about whether or not they wanted us to bring the red barstools which, according to the Target ads, have "adjustable height hydraulics." Bryce replied via text, "No." Reed replied, "Yes." So, I brought them.
It turns out that the barstools are a pretty fun bachelor pad accessory what with the adjustable height hydraulics. Thus, the video. Thus, the gauntlet throw-down.
Reed, consider the barstools, new bed, desk, loveseat, chair, and piles of groceries housewarming "gifts" to you and Bryce from your loving parents. I will consider your "soundbite" a gift to me.