Hold It Right There!

Oct 4th, 2014 by Diane Seymour | 0

“We should get someone else to help us,” I said as we went out the door …

That’s me talking when my husband decides that he’ll make do with me as an assistant; like the time he convinced me to climb to the peak of our house roof to help with the TV antenna. “Hold it right there!” he shouted as the wind whipped, and I gripped the shingles so hard my toes hurt.

Or, it’s like the time he decided that we could put the giant cabinets on the wall in the garage without help. “Hold it right there!” he said, while he looked for a screw, as my knees melted toward the floor, and the weight of the cabinet settled firmly onto the flat spot on the back of my head.

“Hold it right there!” my husband cried, as we struggled to push his 1967 Corvette body up the ramp into the enclosed trailer. CorvettebodyHalfway up the ramp, he yelled this familiar phrase as he let go and ran to the front of the dolly to steer it clear of the ramp side wires. I bravely stood my ground; knees locked, arms straining, palms pressed up against the only two spots on the car I was allowed to touch. He quickly hooked ratchet straps to the front of the dolly, and with him ratcheting and me pushing, we moved it up just far enough so the dolly and body sat in that delicate balance between safety and should-have-got-someone-else-to-help disaster.

I moved to the front of the body and switched from pushing to pulling. Just as I was beginning to feel sure that we could finish the job, I looked down between my feet and saw the ratchet straps go totally slack. “What in the world are you doing?” I shouted (or maybe it was XX!! X** XX**!?)! “Hold it right there!” he yelled again. “I have to untangle the ratchet straps!” So, with legs spread wide in a wrestler crouch, I held on and hoped my puny muscles and ample bottom end would be enough to counter the downward pull of 600-plus pounds of precious fiberglass.

The car survived, and so did I, but this morning he mumbled something about putting the engine in the car. “We should get someone else to help us,” I said as he went out the door. I don’t think he heard me …

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