Recently, my dad decided to get himself an apartment. In the process, he realized he didn’t have room for a desk he’s had for over twelve years and so I, seeing an opportunity, requested to have said desk. My dad, as stubborn as he is, said I could ‘borrow’ it maybe for a year or two until he’s able to get back into a house. Borrow has so many interpretations though. 😉
is what I would consider to be an upgrade to what I already had…
It took three of us to haul that beast up the stairs to my second floor apartment. Maneuvering it through the hallway and into my office should have required us to have passed a Mensa exam. When we finally got the desk settled in, my wife and I realized how many scrapes and dents had occurred in the walls – nothing some good ol’ putty can’t fix.
Now the desk is mine – not to borrow, because I’m not sure anyone could get the desk out of the office. Besides, a bit of stain and it will be good as new, and will hopefully be able to be passed down to my future children.