Dropped Mister off at school. Went shopping for his birthday coming up fairly soon. And as part of his birthday stuff, I bought a beanbag chair kit for use at his mom's where he and Lamb now have a finished basement to play in.
I had wanted a beanbag chair but Meijer only had the kits. Luckily, I bought Lamb a fold-out princess couch instead of her own beanbag chair. For Mister, I got the kit, which consists of the bag and a set of the Styrofoam beads to put in the bags. Happy children and young adults are shown happily adding the beads and then using the chairs.
Here is where I learned some ugly facts about myself. First of all, I consider myself a patient man. This is normally good but can be used for evil as well. Second, I like to think of myself as a forgiving man.
But that was before the 70-minute beanbag filling ordeal.
I discovered that I have it within myself to kill. And if I ever run across the fiends who devised this little system of home-filling beanbag chairs instead of doing it in a friggin state-of-the-art factory somewhere in southern China the way it is supposed to be done, I shall shoot the lead sick puppy with little loss of sleep. After 45 minutes, about as many of the beads that were going to exit the packaging and lodge in the beanbag chair were placed. The static cling made filling the bag though the tiny zippered opening with light gravity-defying beads an excruciating experience:
And because I am still a patient man, if it takes years before I get the chance to cap that particular home furnishings genius, I shall wait.
Oh, and did I mention the static cling that made picking up the debris of this fun experience an added joy?
Yes, that was fun, too. By wetting my hands I was able to pick up the beans, detach them from my hands, and deposit them in a bag where they would stay rather than float out on the magic of static charges to redeposit on my carpeting.
Because of this feature of the fun beanbag chair experience, when I shoot the home-furnishings genius who came up with this idea, it will not be a clean shot. Oh, no. I will start at the feet and slowly work my way up. I may fling beads at him in a sort of gruesome tar and feathering ritual with beanbag beads replacing feathers.
I'm not happy about what I discovered about myself today. Manufacturers: be warned.
