At the time, it seemed like a fine idea. Order a space saving desk with a drop down shelf for a laptop and mount it on the wall. Except that said desk arrived in 35 pieces with 100+ screws, and instructions that included only pictures. No text -- not in English or any other of the usual 5 or 6 languages. Nada.
Here's the thing. We've successfully assembled many items, including a Floyd bed complete with headboard, a Burrow loveseat and armchair, two Ikea sewing tables with trestle legs and storage cabinet. I spent part of a recent day sanding the top of our antique oak drop leaf dining table and my husband spent hours removing the black paint on the antique Chinese coffee table.
We're not total incompetents but we're not skilled carpenters unlike our fathers. My dad built an A-frame playhouse for our girls nearly 30 years ago and which he claimed would stand only 2 years. It's still in use as a storage shed and is currently mid-renovation.
My mom took a woodworking class after retiring and built a small table and a folding screen. Dad taught me basic tool skills and I made some rough wooden objects as a kid but I share few of my four brothers' woodworking skills. My husband is much more adept with power tools but he's not interested in making 1,000 signed canes like those made by his dad.
Seriously, though? "Assembly required" doesn't usually cause us much more than a little grumbling. This time there was a lot of colorful language, a few discreet dirty looks at each other, and arguments about whose arthritis hurt most. After three nights of knowing when to stop before it was finally together, we let out a collective sigh. It was ready to mount on the wall. Except...let's just say that part of the process wasn't simple.
It started out well -- we successfully located the studs, drilled the holes and installed the anchors and screws. From there it went downhill for a number of reasons. First, the top and bottom of the desk were connected to the horizontal boards by connector screws and dowels. They connected fine but lacked in securely holding. So...had we been a bit more skilled and a lot more patient, it might have been fine. But...
We hung the desk, pulled the folding shelf down to test the laptop, and like dominoes, the desk collapsed into itself board by board. It was like a Laurel and Hardy episode. All we could do was collapse in laughter. His last comment was "Well, it's a nice drawer."
My first thought after that was "woulda, coulda, shoulda" (with apologies to Dr. Arthur Freeman.) There was a brief moment of regret before we agreed our best option was to return the desk, hope for a refund, and move on to plan B.
Plan B involves recycling a former desk top from the basement and extending my sewing table. The space will have double duty as cutting space and desk. Bonus: it's cheaper and easier! Stay tuned.