Twinkle: Leave FIL and His New TV Alone!

There was little mention of the bastard baby tonight at dinner, probably because a sweet aunt and cousin were in attendance. There was some light joking about the announcement (which Mr. Twinkle instigated, trying to stir the pot), but little in the way of judgment. The judgment was there on Fun Sink's face, but even she knew it just wouldn't have been appropriate for her to articulate it.

What was discussed was my father-in-law's new basement flat-screen tv, which he and the cousin in attendance had hung on the wall that very afternoon. Fun Sink was complaining about it all: the tv was too big, the tv was on one of those mounts that makes it pivot (not sure why that's a bad thing), my father-in-law couldn't wait to hang it until the furniture was there, he had the decorator measure it perfectly in the center of the wall last time she was there.

So, let's review. My father-in-law:

1). Purchased a large flat-screen television for the enjoyment of his family and friends.

2). Agreed to a decorator, to make the basement into a very nice hangout space.

3). Cared enough to work with the decorator to make sure the tv was placed appropriately.

4). Is also buying new furniture, which I'm sure Fun Sink selected in a fashionable shade of brown.

5). Was able to hang the tv himself.

Let's examine this through the lens of one Mr. Twinkle, because Mr. Twinkle is a man who knows his limitations, and I try to be nice about those limitations. One of those limitations is general around-the-house handiness. He will admit this. My FIL's handiness has skipped a generation, and because of this my domesticity is not limited to cooking and cleaning. For instance, I built the shelves in the playroom. I've hung every picture in the house. I have a mitre saw and I know how to use it. If I need a toy chest in a child's room, I'd better be prepared to put it together myself--which I am. If I find that I am physically unable to hold the toy chest's top while attaching the special, gently-closing hinges, the toy chest will sit there indefinitely, unused and half-finished and probably hazardous to small children, with toys scattered across the floor. Honey Badger don't care--I know my limitations, too. He'll get around to it one of these days. Maybe in time for grandchildren. Or maybe I should just call a handyman like we do for everything else that I can't do. (In fact, that's the best idea I've had all week. Thanks for the brainstorm, Fun Sink!)

When it was time to mount a flat-screen tv on our wall (which I generously allowed to be hung in the living room), he knew it would be best to hire someone to do it. And it was a good thing he did, because the delivery man dropped the tv, cracked it, and then hit Mr. Twinkle's car on the way to get a new one. It's really hard to mount a tv on a wall--even professionals find it difficult. Even the small tv in our room upstairs was installed by a handyman, and it was three years after we moved into the house that we finally got it accomplished. And if I hadn't taken the initiative, it would still be sitting unused in the basement. Have you all ever heard me complaining about any of this? No, you haven't. And you won't, because we all have our limitations, myself included. (Case in point: unfinished toy chest).

So, y'all understand why I say that it's really, really cool that my father-in-law can hang a tv and wants to hang a tv and made it happen within hours of the tv's delivery. But all Fun Sink can do is complain about it. Just say, "Great job," and let the man enjoy his tv!