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The urgency was in getting the legs to fold down. And stay down. Like in the picture (See Diagram D). But where in the hell are the English Instructions? If you could get the legs to fold down, then you could insert Coupling A into Shaft C, and the base would pretty much be complete. You would just have to screw the H-Pins into Legs A, B, C, and D. Where are the H-Pins? I guess that’s what you get for buying a crib from a local chain store.
But for the good news, he only had to buy a screwdriver and ten-millimeter wrench. The Allen wrench came free with the kit. To date, this assembly was the hardest thing that Joe had ever done. It was his first child.
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Across the street, Dalton West thought:
Where in the hell does a guy get hardwood in Florida?
Lowes, Home Depot, Ace?
Nada. No one sells maple.
So, he had to find a sawmill, where he bought Florida Maple by the plank. Got that out of the way. What about maple plywood? Without having it shipped from God knows where (Connecticut, Maine, New Hampshire, NOT Florida), Dalton found himself wanting to give up before he had even started the project. Big Surprise.
Luckily, he found some plywood in Orlando, only fifty miles away. Not bad. Seventy-five bucks a sheet. He’d paid more on a bar tab.
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Joe’s brother-in-law had bought the exact same crib, just a different color. Ash. Not acorn like his. Joe had personally selected acorn. He had good taste. Everything that they bought for the baby’s room was in good taste. The two-in-one baby dresser and changing table from Target; the glide-rocking chair, wall sconces, and rug from World Market; the antique clock, train set, and oil paintings from Renninger’s market.
Only his in-laws would know that the crib was from Wal-Mart. He could hear it now. “Really, you bought your baby’s crib at Wal-Mart.” Not even a question, more so a judgmental statement. But what about the brother-in-law? Did he not receive the same treatment? Probably not. And he had chosen a much duller color than acorn.
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Dalton also had to buy a table saw and the blades to go with it. The miter and dado blades. He would later come to find that the dado blade didn’t fit his saw, and would have to cut the grooves in the wood for the slats with a single blade, almost costing him a finger in the process. He would borrow the rest of the tools (router, belt sander, scroll saw, various clamps) from his neighbor, a man who’d periodically check in on the project and criticize it. But that other man across the street, Joe, didn’t even own a lawnmower, much less a scroll saw.
On top of building the crib, Dalton would have to juggle this new project with his work schedule, exercise, his A.A. meetings, and rubbing his wife’s feet every night. His biggest fear was that he would not finish the project in time. Then she would say “Oh, and you couldn’t even finish building your son’s crib, now could you.” Not even a question, more so a judgmental statement.
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Why had he waited until the ninth month to start this damned thing? Where in the hell are the H-Pins? There are F-Pins and G-Pins, but no H-Pins? And how do the instructions keep getting flipped over to the French side?
Joe wondered how long it had taken his brother-in-law to assemble the crib. It probably took him much longer, as his wife’s sister was always complaining about how long it took him to do things. Of the two men that had married into that damned family, he was the better. That was his assertion because let’s face it, his brother-in-law would have never picked out the acorn color.
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Dalton bought the plans as an online e-book. The crib would be made as a three-in-one crib, toddler bed, and twin bed. He would make the crib first, and then build the other pieces later on down the road. He started the project around her third month of labor. Gave himself enough time. This way, he could work diligently on the crib for as many weekends as he could go without drinking.
And if he did (which he inevitably would) “slip up,” then he would have plenty of weekends left to make up for the ones he had lost. The first phase of production: measure and cut the planks to size and sand them. Second phase: notch the planks, laminate them together, counter-sink screw holes in the assembled legs, and cut the railings. Third phase: cut plywood for the headboard and footboard, glue the plywood into the mortised legs, attach the railing guide to the footboard and headboard, and then assemble the railings with appropriate spacing (don’t want baby to get stuck). Fourth phase: sand, assemble and stain.
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He had found the H-pins and secured the legs. Now he could move to steps E, F, and G. He eyed nervously the slat panels. They came, pre-fabricated, as four panels with the slats already spaced. He hoped that this would be enough spacing. He was starting to regret the decision to buy the thing at Wal-Mart. Most Wal-Mart shoppers were mutants, he thought, and their babies had abnormally large heads, so would not get stuck in the spaces between the slats. But his baby would have a normal-sized brain. A Target-sized brain.
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By this time, Dalton had gotten to phase three, which made him nervous. He would assemble the slats by strategically sliding them into the assembled headboards and footboards. Then, he would space them appropriately (28cm) and glue spacers in between them. This would be the pivotal moment of the project. Heaven forbid he build a crib that had the potential to kill the baby. Phase three complete, on to phase four.
He carried on with the project, no slip ups, and was hopeful that the baby would bring with it a new sense of purpose to his life.
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Finally, the day had come and Joe’s baby came out a whopping ten pounds six ounces with a good PKU test score. Joe Jr. was considered a very large baby, especially about the cranium, where it was ranked in the 98th percentile in head-size. The mom—perfectly healthy and loving her gliding rocker. Baby would go on to cry, hysterically, every night in its new crib until the first night that he slept over at the brother-in-law’s house. With sister-in-law babysitting, Joe Jr. slept without a peep all night in the ash-colored crib assembled by brother-in-law.
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Across the street, Dalton and his wife suffered a miscarriage. Mom was healthy, but baby had not developed fully within the last few months of pregnancy. Mom and Dad had their suspicions but hoped for the best. Mom and Dad are trying again for another. Baby’s crib sits, ready in baby’s room. Stain color: acorn.
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Photo credit: Getty Images