Need Help With Assembly? Call A Grandmother

My daughter and her husband set off for a few days on a little getaway, and I was fortunate to have the opportunity to watch their one year old son, William and their cute little dog, Bluebell. William is quite the happy little guy, so I was particularly excited to have him while his parents were away.

In anticipation of their departure, my daughter ordered and had sent one of those push around buggy like cars for toddlers. You know, they look like a car with a steering wheel and seat, but they also have a long handle by which you can push the car. 

As everyone who’s taken care of a little one knows, when a child takes a nap, it’s the golden hour. The chance to be productive with tasks or chores that don’t involve stacking blocks or rinsing sticky fingers is sacred time. So, when William went down for a nap, I could have done a plethora of things that would’ve given me a sense of refueling for the rest of the day. But alas, I chose William’s nap time to assemble the push around buggy-like car. And this, my friends, turned out to be a detour in the quest for any sort of peaceful respite.

First of all, the instruction manual consisted mainly of pictures with arrows. Initially, I thought this was going to be a piece of cake. I’m a visual person and usually do well with demonstrations. However, the parts and assembly instructions must have been designed from the person who invented the Rubik’s Cube.  Every piece was identified by a letter in the direction manual. I’m ok with that, unless you have a “K” piece that needed to be hammered into “J,” but then “O” was pictured with an arrow also fitting into “J,” It was quite obvious that “J” was not designed to share space with both “K” and “O.”

But then it gets worse. In order to place the steering wheel console into its proper place, there were two directives. First, the instructions (of few words) stated “two people required.” I mean, I was doing this during William’s nap time. There were no “two people” present. I looked at Bluebell. Turns out she was no help. Second, (and this was the clencher), the directions said with an asterisk, “It’s recommended to create a small hole before using the screwdriver to attach the windshield.”  Say again? Create a small hole where? And with what? Do the powers that be realize the indestructible plastic used for these toys is designed to not allow the creation of small holes?

By now I was ready to take matters into my own hands. Although I have no engineering knowledge whatsoever, I do have a history (although ancient) of assembling a multitude of Barbie houses and  miniature kitchens on many a Christmas past. I told myself I could figure it out. And I did.

The push car was assembled and seemed to be ok. The wheels move, which in my book is the litmus test for success. I did have a few pieces left over that may or may not be important. I couldn’t tell you. And, I never did create any small holes where there weren’t any to begin with.

William loves his little blue car. I consider its construction to be a success. His squeals of joy far outweighed my frequent heavy sighs of frustration. I think the toy company might need a tutorial on how to assemble these buggy-like cars grandmother style.