I am officially stupid. Or maybe just nuts.

I will thank you not to snicker or mutter News Flash or any other such pejorative commentary relative to the title of this post!

See, what happened was, I got to flapping all around in two upstairs bedrooms over the weekend.

One bedroom at a time.

Even I, flapper-arounder extraordinaire by anybody's reckoning, cannot flap around in two bedrooms at once.

One such flapworthy location was Andrew's Room. The other was Erica's Room.

But!

Neither of those individuals have lived in this house for some time now. So why have they rooms here?

The short answer would be: They don't anymore.

Instead I now have three upstairs guest rooms where before I only had one, and I now have three offices (two up, cleverly disguised as guest rooms; one down, clearly an office -- which in my boundless magnanimity I share with TG) where before I had only one.

You read that correctly. One office was not enough for me. Two offices were not enough for me! It had to be three and now there are three.

One office for each computer, including an office that is the occasional venue for simultaneous use of two computers.

I won't bore you with the details of the computers that exist in this house and how I hog most of them and employ them for different tasks. Suffice it to say they all get a workout.

So anyway, in the room that used to be Erica's, there was a dresser. It was on the cheap side and didn't match anything. Soft white with four drawers. White enamel-look plates with pink flowers painted on them served as anchors for brass-look pull handles.

We bought the dresser for the girls when they were small. It's been moved many times. On one corner of the topmost surface there was a spot the size of a deck of cards where the paint had mysteriously been damaged and scraped at and effectively removed, leaving a scar you had to cover with a box of tissues.

Speaking of office, I imagine Bill Clinton was in the Oval when that happened.

A decorative piece that long ago got knocked loose and was partially broken leaned across the bottom of the dresser. If you opened the drawers, they immediately lunged forward and down. You had to catch them or risk losing some skin on your shin.

It was a piece of junk. I wanted an empty space where it stood. I slid out each drawer in its turn and, taking care not to let them fall, I emptied them of clothes Erica has not worn since before she went away to college. All said articles of clothing I deposited on her bed.

Then I called TG to come and haul the dresser out of the room, down the stairs, into his pickup, and from there to the place he takes all our trash.

But first he had to interrogate me. Was I sure I really wanted to jettison the dresser? Would anybody want it? Could we sell it? Maybe we should have a little garage sale?

Yes. No. I doubt it. Uhm, sure, Dear. Knock your lights out. Thus were my tender and considered responses to each eager query in turn.

Because I was certain I wanted the dresser to G-O go and I was positive nobody would want it and why would anyone give good money for it?

Also I knew without having to think about it for longer than a nanosecond that TG's the last person in this house who's going to organize a garage sale. I'm the second to last and I won't do it until paisley-clad swine are airborne in the skies over Columbia.

So I gave a little tug to the fake-enamel and fake-brass pulls and I let the dresser drawers fall out, and I caught each one and I stacked them at the top of the stairs so TG could carry them away. Then I walked the empty shell of my girls' old dresser out of the room and to the stair landing. When I looked again, it was gone.

The next day I glanced out the window of one of my two new offices and saw the dresser sitting at the end of the driveway next to TG's pickup. Which made sense.

I figured he hadn't heaved it into the truck bed yet because he was waiting until time to go to the trash facility. He was busy blowing and raking and bagging the acorns raining down on our house by the thousands from the big oak which is having a remarkably fruitful year.

The front yard glistens with acorns.TG has netted fifty pounds a day several days running.

The backyard pool area has become a bona fide squirrel sanctuary and all-you-can-gnaw buffet.

Well.

Not a half hour after I noticed the dresser in the driveway, TG came bounding up the stairs into one of my offices. He was clearly all worked up about something. And he was brandishing my wallet.

Now, like most ladies, I do not like people -- ANY people -- going into my purse without my knowledge and assent. TG of all people should be aware of not only that salient fact, but also that I do not carry cash.

However, he'd given me a five-dollar bill the previous Sunday when he'd needed a few singles I had squirreled away, on account of the little kids in our church pass brightly-colored baskets around in evening service as a collection for their summer camp fund.

TG's a sucker for basket-waving kids.

He'd cadged my errant singles and given me the fiver as a sop. So he knew it was in there. At least he was gentleman enough not to pinch the cash in don't-ask-don't-tell fashion.

I was clueless as to why he needed money and I didn't inquire because he was obviously in a great hurry.

Then from my lofty perch in the oak branches I saw there was a battered black pickup sitting in the road at the base of our driveway.

And the white dresser was in the truck bed.

As I watched, TG trotted toward the driver's side window. Money changed hands.

I was speechless and motionless. No words. Momentarily flapless.

A minute later he was back in my office. He tried to hand me a twenty but I waved it away. As though I could be bought so cheaply!

"Don't tell me you got money for that old dresser," I said.

"YEAH! I did! Ten bucks! She wanted it! I pointed out the big scraped-off spot on the top but she said she's going to paint it black anyway so it doesn't matter!"

TG, gatherer of acorns, marketing genius, was out of breath and practically levitating. The thrill of the deal had seized him and was rattling his back teeth.

No, we don't get out much. Step off.

So now? Now all I can think of is that dresser painted black, with new, edgy drawer pulls that don't scream I Hold Girl Clothes! My mind's eye can effortlessly see how cool and clever that would be.

I can picture it occupying any one of several spaces in my house, its stylishly repurposed self being put to myriad homespun uses. A cache for linens or gift wrap or spare acorns or even Pirates of the Caribbean DVD's and memorabilia.

But no! No, it's gone. It's black now and it's not coming back. It's enjoying another, second, more exciting life. One that has nothing to do with me.

A cautionary tale with a bittersweet ending.

I think I'll go sulk in one of my offices.

Comments

[Mari]

Have I told you how much I love reading your blog? Well, I do! This was a great post - I can just picture you cleaning things out, and now wondering what have I done? I know you'll be loving those 3 offices!!!
We could probably rival you for acorns - it's a never ending task here. :)

[irene]

Well I don't have acorns, but I do have several dressers, my problem is I have too many ideas and now two are standing there in the middle of refurbishing. Love your squirrel pictures.

[Donna]

Oh, how I enjoyed this sordid "tail" of woe! The story of the dresser that got away! You DO realize that TG had it planned, didn't you?he cleverly left that dresser out there knowing some lady would love to lay claim to it and even confess how it would be transformed. Methinks you need to start cruising the garage sales for a replacement!

And I can certainly understand having several offices and computers, LOL!

[Angel]

awwwwwwwwwwwww no Spring cleaning for u girl...it's FALL!..((hugs))

[Donna (Texas)]

Hahahaaaa....what a story!
I guess it's a good thing that it's gone...Hahaaa
hughugs

[Erica]

No worries. There's another ugly dresser in the other guest room that can be refurbished. I've been doing a little of that myself with some things that I got from a yard sale! I could use a project when I come home!

[Jennifer]

@Mari ... you've told me before but thanks for telling me again! And as always, thanks for reading.

@irene ... I wish you'd been here to caution me when I made that rash decision.

@Donna ... right you are! I need to immediately replace the junk I just got rid of.

@Angel ... exactly. My cleaning moods know no season.

@Donna ... well, it's gone ... that's all I know!

@Erica ... huh? The other dresser is NICE!

[Sue the Hobbit]

Just think about the black drawers falling out and hitting you in the shins. That'll make you feel better.
Unless the gal was really clever and fixed them.
Hmmmm.

[D. Barry Sheldon]

Hi Jenny-

I am tring to get in touch with you, please do send me an email.

Thanks so much,