Yes, It is True, I dropped the puzzle on the floor. You see, Mother likes to assemble jigsaw puzzles. She has gotten more bold here recently, and has began to tackle 1,000 piece puzzles all on her own. She had it all put together, it took her some two weeks to finish it, and yes, I dropped it on the floor, and it fell to pieces.
Luckily it was not the whole puzzle, just about 600 pieces worth, over half, but she was not pleased. You see, when she does big puzzles, she starts at the bottom and works her way up. She complains that she has short arms (although that is not the exact phrase that she uses; in deference to the little people, I will not use the “M” word). When she gets past halfway she has a hard time reaching to the top of the puzzles to finish it. So when she gets over half done, I take the completed bottom half of the puzzles off, and set it aside, so she can finish the top half. And yes, I dropped the bottom half on the floor.
Now this was several months ago, back in October I think. She has not let me forget about it since, every couple days she reminds me, in one way or another, about dropping the puzzles. I am washing dishes: she reminds me, “don’t drop those plates, like you did the puzzle.” I am cooking dinner: she reminds me, “don’t drop that spaghetti on my carpet … like you did the puzzle.” We are in the store shopping for groceries: she reminds me, “don’t drop those eggs and break them … like the puzzle.” If she gets a new puzzle, she reminds me, “I should not let you near my new puzzle, in case you drop it.” Ok Ok. I know, I dropped it.
I did not do it on purpose. At this point she had it all finished; the top half was on the card table, the bottom half was on a side table; I was trying to stack puzzles that were already finished, but still needed to be glued down; I tilted the board it was on a little too far, and off it slid. When I heard that noise of the puzzles sliding off, I knew immediately what happened. Without even looking at the pile of puzzle pieces crumpled on the floor behind the table, I said to Mother, “I just dropped your puzzle on the floor.” Yeah. that hard one that took you two weeks to finish.
I have been saying for months now: “I will put it back together.” So this week, I got all the pieces back out (that I picked up off the floor) and started to put it back together again. That when things started to get a little bit aggravating. Turns out, this puzzle is hard: most of the pieces look the same, and we threw away the box it came in (before I dropped it) so I have no picture for reference. I looked online for the puzzle picture. I found other pictures of the “Dead Horse Mill,” but not the same picture that the puzzle used. Here is the mill, but not the same picture as the puzzle.
This puzzle was kicking my butt!!! I got it out and worked on it for two days, and this was all I had to show for it ….
Well, I guess Mother took pity and helped out, or her puzzle assembling urge kicked in (I knew it would; I was counting on it). Together we got most of it done. I guess you could say, it is a bit shameful, a bit embarrassing to need help with the puzzle, especially after she had put the whole thing together once before? Here is how it stood at the end of day three:
I finally got the sucker finished, but not glued down; I don’t have any piece of cardboard big enough. I guess, I should be surprised that I was only missing two pieces. They probably got sucked up in the vacuum at some point. When I get the whole thing glued down, I will take a picture of the complete puzzle and post it.
So, the next time Mother reminds me that I dropped the puzzle, I can say: “I put it back together again.” Of course, she will say, “but I helped,” and remind me that I did not do it alone, that “you needed the help of your poor old Mother” to get it done, which might be worse than dropping it on the floor in the first place. Of course, I am just kidding. It was her puzzle, and I am the one who dropped it.