Mr B and I have a new challenge. Let’s call it “Chair-gate.”
Not to be confused with “Stair-gate”,
often brought into use when small-fry come to stay, or “Garden-gate” which you may remember exercised my powers of detection some time back when a local vandal removed our gate and carried it off up the road. If you are thinking “Watergate”
then you need to remember that the Daily Blog is strictly a-political and tries very hard not to offend anyone. This is possibly why no publishing house has descended upon me, offering me mega-bucks to turn the Daily Blog into a Literary Phenomenon.
But I digress - for which I am not apologising, digression being what the Daily Blog is all about. You want to know about Chair-gate, don’t you?
This morning we took delivery of one of those riser / recliner chairs in a bid to make Mr B’s life a little more comfortable and mine a little easier. For what turned out to
be a remarkably short space of time between deciding we needed such a chair and its delivery, we have Our Boy to thank. It would be sheer madness, he stated, to pay out a great deal of money for a brand new piece of furniture which Mr B might, or might not,
take to. Our Boy knows his father only too well. He also doesn’t mince his words when it comes to forthright commentary on his Aged Parents’ significant failures in Spending Money Wisely. It may be, of course, that he is simply protecting his inheritance
- but I prefer to think that his mind is on Higher Matters.
No sooner had he delivered his damning verdict on the number of “helpful aids” which I
have bought only to find them falling short of Mr B’s approval, than he was twiddling his thumbs trying to find a second hand chair on-line. Success was almost immediate. For a mere fraction of the shop price, Mr B could be the proud owner of an Almost
New Armchair. When Our Boy next attempted to negotiate an even lower price, on account of the fact that I would have to engage the services of a Man with a Van to collect it for me, the seller declared himself happy to deliver, set up, and run through the
operation of said chair with Mr B. What a result!
Hence this morning the arrival of Martin who was every bit as good as his word. Accompanied by a workmate, he
carried the chair indoors, showed me how to set it up (hopefully I will not be called upon to do this again as I have already mostly forgotten) and took Mr B through the chair’s functions with quite exemplary patience.
Ah, yes, you are right - the chair is operated by remote control and, as regular readers know full well, Mr B does love a remote control. He has remote controls for everything, from the TV and the
gas fire to the awning outside our patio doors. If he were able to operate me, his loving if occasionally trying wife, via a remote control, believe me he would. It doesn’t bear thinking about, now does it?
Mr B is well pleased with our new purchase. We still have to try out all its many properties but it’s a case of so far, so good. The only problem is the addition of yet another large armchair to our increasingly crowded
living room. Honestly, I kid you not, our lounge looks like a furniture warehouse or one of those charity shops dealing in pre-loved chairs, tables and wardrobes. We easily have enough chairs and arm-chairs to play a pretty good game of Musical Chairs and
negotiating Mr B’s wheelchair around the room is like tackling an obstacle course. I’m not exactly sure what I am going to do about “Chair-gate” but I have decided not to stress about it for the moment.
I shall sit here in “my” armchair (which happens to be one of Mr B’s earlier rejects) and happily contemplate a future in which - thanks to Our Boy - Mr B can rise and recline to
Anyone for Musical Chairs?