Dear Google,
I do not know what I did before you came into my life. You help me spell words, tell me the meaning of words that I am unsure of, and find the answer to almost any question my kids or I have. Today they wanted to know what has the biggest seed, and after a quick search on you, I could tell them that it is the palm tree. Mr. Smarty Pants Brady thought it was the avocado, but that one is actually fourth, Google, but you already know that.
And today I wanted to know how to remove rusted out screws and you were there for me, just like always.
I woke up to the excellent news that T-ball pictures had been postponed. I was able to enjoy my coffee instead of rushing to get three boys (two dressed in uniform) out the door before 9 am. As I sat drinking coffee, peacefully, I began to feel the pressure to fill the hours with something productive. With so many things on my to-do list, I am not sure why replacing the shower curtain rod was what I decided on, but I did. Mark was at work, but I was sure I could handle it, just me and Google.
I scraped the old paint off the screws and was frustrated to find that they would not turn at all. Considering that they were under three layers of paint, I am guessing they had been in there at least a few decades. That is when I turned to you, Google. A quick search told me to try scraping the paint, using WD-40, and try banging it loose with a hammer. Patiently, I repeated the steps over and over and over. Finally, one screw came loose. I was determined now, I knew that I could do it.
Over an hour after I started on the quest, I still only had that one screw out. So then I just used brute force to pull the whole thing out of the wall. You did not suggest that route, Google, but time was of the essence.
People often ask what the kids are doing when I am engaged in projects such as these. The good thing about having three kids is that they entertain each other and the good thing about having a small house is that I can always hear them. They ended up dressing in costume and happily went about destroying the rest of the house.
I thought the worst was over, but I was wrong. Mark is always accusing me of drilling twice and measuring never, so I took my time. I measured at least three times before I settled on the new location. I triple-checked my work again. The directions told me I needed a ¼” drill bit, and lo and behold, I found a loose drill bit in the toolbox and it measured a 1/4”, it was like it was meant to be, Google, only it was not. The anchors bent when I tried to put them in the wall, and if I would have searched again, I would have found out the hole was likely not large enough and that my miraculous ¼” drill bit was, in reality, a bit smaller than that. I worked for another hour before I gave up and decided Mark was much better suited to hanging the new shower curtain rod, anyway.
But, I could have never made it as far as I did without you, Google. Seriously, what did we do before you? I think I must have called my dad, which is probably still a pretty good idea now that I think about it.
Love,
Me