My eyes were blurry, I’m pretty sure my head had a hole in it and had expanded in a way that seemed to throw my balance all out…
And I was hotter than the sun. Yep, I’d been struck down in my prime… I was facing the dreaded man flu. Everything in me wanted to go to bed and emerge in 2 or 3 weeks (the standard recovery time for man flu) but I couldn’t…I’d made a promise.
Bunk beds had been the dream of the two brothers living in my household for months. The flat pack form arrived one day while I was at work and had been sat in multiple boxes just inside my front door for a while. I’d promised that the bunk beds would become less flat and completely useable by the weekend. So time had run out. Man flu or not the building had to begin.
Fortunately, I had two very willing helpers who scored highly in effort and enthusiasm but their flat pack know-how wasn’t quite up to speed. So, Faith and I decided to put our marriage on the line and work on the build ourselves. We probably should have contacted the Grand Designs team but there was no time. I can’t tell you much about the process – I’d had a lot of Lemsip, and it’s all a bit of a blur. But, what we’ve ended up with looks like a bunk bed.
