Things that make you go arrrggghhh....

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Oh, hi. What's that noise? That's just me, thumping my head against the wall. My frustration has nothing to do with my knitting projects (the second sleeve of the Garden baby cardi is on the shaping) or anything, it's more of a life thing.

On my weekly phone call home, my mom brought up The Chairs. Again. We had a similar conversation shortly after their last visit, and obviously, the subject needed revisiting.

You see, my mom had this idea that O should have two of these wooden chairs that the church that she goes to back home uses for the Sunday School classes. At the time, we were still in the townhouse, with limited room, and I kept telling her that no, we didn't have the room for them, but thank you for the offer. And she kept on week in, and week out, insisting that they bring them down, so I think I may have said, ok, whatever.

So, at their last visit, they brought The Chairs. They had been painted and repainted and covered with paint drips, and were chipped in places. Mom said that all I'd have to do is sand them, and repaint them, and they'd be fine. But that little voice piped up in my head.

'What are the chances that these have lead paint on them?' I asked.

'Oh I don't know...just sand them, and they'd be fine."

'Well, I'm going to have them tested for lead, and if they're positive, O is not going to use them.'

After they left, I went to the hardware store, got myself a lead-testing kit, and checked them. Pink meant a little bit of lead. These were bright red. So, needless to say, I triple bagged them, and disposed of them.

And then the questions began.

'So...what have you done with the chairs?'

'They tested positive for lead, so I got rid of them.'

'Hmmpf...that's ridiculous...there was nothing wrong with them. I can't believe you'd do that.'

'Well, I was not going to have O touch them, and possibly get sick.' (Silly me, erring on the side of caution and all.)

'Well, you used them, and you're fine. (I hate that reasoning...that just because something was okay in the past, that means it's okay forever.)'So don't tell me you threw them away...I'll take them back to the church. They can use them there.'

'I don't think anyone should use them; it's dangerous. Besides, they're gone.'

'But I paid ten dollars for them!'

'I. Will. Pay. You. Back.' (By this time, I'm starting to get that flat, clipped tone to my voice.)

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the conversation/argument...but I won't go on anymore. Suffice to say, my actions are supposedly 'riduculous', and 'stupid'.


Oh well, I just have to keep telling myself that I am O's mother, and I am the one to decide what is good for her.

Sigh.