He couldn't actually watch TV on it as it had no aerial ... so it was only ever used as a monitor to play the PlayStation.
Then ... as so often happens to TV sets on their last legs ... those legs gave up working ... luckily without a violent explosion ... and it ceased to work for anything at all.
So then it proceeded to sit on the floor of Master 13's bedroom ... gathering dust.
Now we aren't talking some little 30 cm TV ... oh nooo this was a great big family sized set and it was purchased back in the days before tellies got slim ... it was a big fatty. It took up a lot of valuable floor space in his room ... space that could be put to better use ... you know ... to store his clothes on.
Every time I went into his room I managed to knock my shin or stub my toe or trip right over the top of it.
So I asked Hubby to move it ... remember it was one of the big fat old fashioned ones ... and it weighed a tonne and then a bit more ... I could scarcely budge it.
And I asked ... and I asked ... and I asked again ... and more than 12 months went by.
I wouldn't say I nagged ... but I suggested forcefully on innumerable occasions that he move it.
He never did.
Then one day ... Master 13 tripped over and knocked his noggin on the rotten thing.
Then in a burst of strength brought on by adrenaline and frustration ... I managed to drag it out into the hallway ... but no further.
Again I suggested forcefully to Hubby that he might like to move it ... but he didn't and there it remained for several more months.
But this weekend just gone ... something miraculous occurred.
One of my sarcastic comments about the decorative feature in the hallway ... which was undoubtedly accompanied by a dramatic eye roll ... finally made it through the thick nag resistant skin of Hubby.
He called on Master 15 to come and help ... they were going to ... drum roll please ... move the TV.
Remember this thing is majorly heavy ... it's definitely a two man job ... but between Hubby and Master 15 it should be a breeze ... shouldn't it?
There was much cursing and huffing and puffing and banging and crashing ... and then they emerged ... Hubby and his ever so helpful right hand man ... DON'T STRAIN YOURSELF THERE MASTER 15!!
|Inferior quality of shot due to uncontrollable laughter of photographer.|
And it was moved ... all the way to the garage ... where it shall no doubt remain for another couple of years!!