My parents stayed with us for three and a half weeks this past December and, after a few days spent running around Austin, we found ourselves with nothing to do. It was cold, it was gloomy and there are only so many episodes of House Hunters you can watch before you find yourself standing in front of the television set holding a steak knife and screaming, “You don’t deserve an open floor plan, Denise! And guess what? If you don’t like the paint color, lick it off. THAT’S RIGHT, LICK THE F—ING WALL, DENISE. Because every cable subscriber in the free world wants you to slowly die of lead poisoning, you indecisive half-wit. GOD, I hope you have carpet in your bathroom.” We were a little desperate.
Then my mom had an idea.
“Do you have any puzzles?” she asked. “Puzzles can be fun.”
And with that, our descent into jigsaw madness began.
We started off with a gateway puzzle— 200 easy pieces that, when completed, showed a picture of a black cat sitting in a field of pussy willows like a chump. My mom dumped the tiny, colorful pieces onto the dining room table, then with bright eyes and confident hands, we sat down and assembled it in a few hours. “That was quick,” I said. “What do you want to–”
“Get another puzzle,” my mom whispered. “But this time, a bigger one.”
I brought home a 500-piecer called “Garden Birds of the Southwest.” It looked colorful. It looked challenging. It looked time consuming.
We put that bitch together in five hours.
We needed more puzzle.
We set up an old card table in our wine room and watched with quivering hands as my dad cut open a 1,000-piecer called “Cereal Boxes.” “Hurry up, man!” we yelled. “We need to pick out the edge pieces! We need to find the corners! We need to light this damn candle already!”
“What you need to do is calm the hell down,” he muttered, then he poured us each a big glass of wine and his wish was granted.
Over the next few days, we sipped our wine and hunched our backs and puzzled over the puzzle. We’d get excited when we thought we found a piece of Raisin Bran, then sad when we realized it was actually a piece of Frosted Flakes. We high-fived when we finished the dreaded Kix section and cried when we got a paper cut. We strolled to the mailbox with pieces of the puzzle stuck to our sweaters and went to sleep with asymmetrical images floating in our heads. We cruelly snubbed Virgil the cat for two days after he swallowed part of the lower left corner and puked it up in the laundry room. We had it bad and we knew it. But we didn’t care if our madness was destroying our family.
One day my dad sat at our table and watched us try to put pieces in. “Yeah, that doesn’t go there,” he’d say when we were wrong. “I wouldn’t have tried it there. Why did you think it’d go there? Haha! Don’t you think I’m funny?”
We didn’t. He spent the rest of the day in the playroom refereeing the kids’ “Whose socks are the grossest?” game.
My mom and I worked all day, every day on the puzzle and when we weren’t working on it, we were thinking about it. “Got my mind on my puzzle and my puzzle on my mind,” I purred into my husband’s ear when we were going to bed.
“Please sleep on the floor,” he purred back.
Finally, one night at 11 p.m., with glazed eyes and grizzled fingers, with unwashed hair and burning sciatica, my mom held a piece in her hand and I held a piece in my hand and together, we solemnly placed them in the puzzle. And then—it was done. Finished. Complete. What started out as a jumbled pile of machine-cut madness was now a gorgeous picture. Of poorly laid-out cereal boxes from the 1950’s that looked like an advertisement for “How To Get Diabetes,” sure, but we had accomplished something amazing and we were beyond proud. We had conquered the puzzle.
(Alas, like many great works of art, ours was ultimately destroyed by its creator. Specifically, me, when I tripped on the queen size blanket I was wearing around the house and knocked the table over with my ass.) (I suspect something similar to that is what happened to the Venus de Milo.)
A few days after our Jigsaw Triumph, my parents packed their bags, kissed us goodbye and headed home. I put the card table back in the garage, washed some dishes and moisturized my hands. I remembered I had children and pets. Life went back to normal and I slowly realized that I’d gone too far off the deep end with the puzzles. I’d been a jigsaw junkie and flew too close to the cardboard sun. I knew I couldn’t risk that again, so I made a vow: the next time I touch a puzzle, I’ll be 80-years-old and on an all-soft-food diet. It’s a vow I intend to keep.
But still, whenever I’m in Target and I have a few minutes to spare, I push my plastic cart slowly past the 5,000 piece puzzles and gaze intently at the boxes. And wonder what kind of good shit I’m missing.
Oh, Wendi. Oh, Wendis’ mama. MY NAME IS ARNEBYA AND I AM A PUZZLE ADDICT. It started innocently enough, with the little fella enjoying his 24 piece puzzles and needing my help but it soon spiraled into 1000 piece cabin in the woods where 700 pieces are the same color and I still finished in under a day and OH MY GOD I just ordered puzzles Sunday off of eBay because WTF w/the 3D for kids and kiss my ass lenticular I WANT A REGULAR DAMN PUZZLE and then and then wait there’s more…I bought the mat thing that keeps the puzzle together so you can leave it and come back and not have assholes you live with dicking around with it, moving pieces or hiding pieces or licking pieces like Denise should have licked that wall color because come ON the house is under budget, buy it and change the damn cabinets or knock down that wall but for the love of all people snowed in and watching, do not complain about the L shaped dining room again; I AM SO HYPED ABOUT PUZZLES AND HOPPED UP ON SNICKERS AND PEPSI AND THAT’S HOW YOU DO RUN ON SENTENCES BITCHES.
omg, this post had me in pieces! hysterical!
Well, you know where I stand with the puzzles. And I think I forgot to tell you that when my parents were here, a puzzle piece stuck to my sweater but I didn’t know and then I went to the bathroom (which I always put off for way too long when puzzling) and it fell in the toilet. I was so tempted to take it out…but no, I did not. I had to flush it away and I nearly panicked.
The End.
Ha. Right. Good luck with that vow.
I’ve SEEN your Puzzle Table and I suspect it won’t stand empty for too long.
In fact, I’ve got a 750-piece beauty — of sand dunes! — that I’m happy to bring over…
Ah, I too was once a Jigsaw junkie during rainy weekend at the cottage with no cable or internet. Now that I think back on it, that’s when the whole ‘drinking before noon’ problems started …
We put that bitch together in five hours.
We needed more puzzle.
#Guffaw
Can’t stop laughing. “Gateway puzzle.”
Next time I’m at Target, I’m walking down the puzzle aisle and thinking of you.
I’ve been in this puzzle purgatory and I’m always the first one to reach for the scissors. Because if you cut right, the piece will fit.
I’m thinking you and Arnebya better not room together at the next conference. There might be blood.
This made me laugh so loud at my desk. Fabulous!
Hilarious. Loved Denise and “like a chump.” I need to stay away from puzzles because I have OCD. It’s killing me that my daughter lost a piece to her 8-piece (8 friggin piece) Dora puzzle and I have to keep tripping over the incomplete puzzle every day. Killing me.
It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.
You got it bad and that ain’t good. But this post was good, really really good.
I love puzzles. But I cannot do them with my kids because they refuse to start with the edge pieces. They are so messed up. I’m sure these are not my children. WHO DOESN’T START WITH THE EDGE PIECES????
Was it this one? http://www.puzzlewarehouse.com/Cereal-Boxes-958wm.html Because this mofo was our Christmas puzzle and the end result didn’t match the damn box! Half of the cereal boxes, while the same brand of cereal, were different. The Crispy Critters had a different mascot! The Shredded Wheat Box was backwards! There was no freakin face on the freakin bowl of Rice Krispies!!!
I love Christmas Puzzles…
“Got my mind on my puzzle and my puzzle on my mind.” Hahahaha!
Also…y’all would love these: http://www.libertypuzzles.com.
Would it be cruel and irresponsible of me to mention that there are puzzles that give you the answer to a mystery that is included in the box? Or 3D puzzles?
My Mom and I spent one Christmas putting together a puzzle and went to bed one night with it nearly done. 95% done. We got up in the morning and my 93 year old Grandfather had put the final pieces in, finishing it. I wanted to cut him.
My husband brings home a puzzle every winter break and then proceeds to make fun of my limited spatial reasoning abilities. I think I will take the vow with you.
I can’t do puzzles and a puzzle a day keeps the Alzheimer’s away. So, please be patient and kind when you come visit me in the dementia home, bright and alert Wendi The Puzzle Mama Aarons.
Just struck by flashback from childhood. My parents and little brother would do 5000 piece puzzles on a saggy, fake wood looking card table. I’d sit down for a few minutes and absolutely lose my mind with impatience and sense of futility. And we’d have to sidle around the table for weeks, since it sat in the “dinette” of our 1-bedroom apartment, just inside the front door. Ah, good times.
I have to share something with you.
I’m addicted.
And it’s glorious!!!
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/covers/jigsaw
Just read Heather’s comment and if I was doing a 500 piece puzzle and a piece fell in the toilet, I would totally fish it out. Probably good that I don’t do puzzles.
My dad just retired a month ago, joining my mom who had 6 years ago. So they took a page out of my grandpa’s book and started a puzzle. Those two missed my 10 y/o daughters basketball game because they got so engrossed in their “Old Time Western” puzzle and didn’t leave the table for hours. They use a spatula to move pieces into place. Sometimes I stop by and do a piece or two for them, but then I have to leave.
It’s too much for me. Especially because they one they’re doing now is missing the last edge piece, and I can’t take it- I’ll visit when they find it.
Dude, wow. I both admire your mad puzzle skillz and am terribly frightened of the woman you just described. I’m super happy you decided to come clean about it all because it made for a reeeeally funny post.
That was awesome. I snorted coffee on the House Hunters reference, because Mike & I watch 3-19 episodes a week and that was just PERFECT!
[…] P.S. This is cheating because I’ve known it for a long time, but I also learned that my friends can make me laugh hysterically and embarrassingly. Don’t miss these posts from Kelcey and Wendi. […]
There is a 1000 piece puzzle of jelly beans in tupperware container in the trunk of my car. My kids make fun of me every time we clean out the car (once a year), but I can’t shake the feeling that somone somewhere will need this puzzle.
It’s Candy Crush for sensible people. (I hear you. I like puzzles, too. I also like to crochet.)
I wondered how you were going to make jigsaw puzzles funny. God, I should know better than to doubt you by now.
“We put that bitch together in five hours.” Pure poetry.
That said, If this is a window into life in my 40s, I’m staying Forever 38 🙂
I feel you. I’ve always liked puzzles, but they are frighteningly addictive. Some friends gave us a SUPER complicated map of Disneyland puzzle as a thank you gift, with fancy “mouse ears” cut outs and a scroll edge (no corner pieces!). It was the beginning of the end. I set up a card table in the living room and slaved over that bastard for weeks. Until my husband finally said we’d have to put the Christmas tree in the bathroom unless I broke down the (unfinished) puzzle and put it away. I think he was bluffing, but I did it. I died a little inside, though.
A three and a half week visit!???
I need to talk to hokgardner…
Corner pieces are for pussies!
https://www.mgcpuzzles.com/Jigsaw-Puzzle-Manufacturers.htm
This is quite possible the funniest thing I have ever read. You had me in tears.
In due time I might write a similar post, my eldest has inherited her puzzle addiction from me. we are currently knee deep in My Little Pony and Disney Princess puzzles, which are very confusing because both contain a lot of pink.
Holy Crap – I have been there. Years ago when I was married, my husband plowed snow for what seemed like days at a time.. Yes, this is the same husband that bought me the same turtleneck in five different colors or patterns for Christmas every year. Anyway, to pass the time productively I would get out the card table and do the same.. WINE & PUZZLES are a great combo to pass the time. Flash forward to this past summer where I stayed in an ocean front condo on Cape Cod with the guy I’ve been dating for 7 years.. Yea, they had puzzles in that condo and I built them. I was obsessed! It wasn’t pretty and THE MAN, as I like to call him, said I was beginning to frighten him.. We now have a no puzzles on vacation agreement 🙂
Bitch, you have a wine room? I don’t even like wine, and I’m vaguely jealous.
I do crossword puzzles, because they make me feel terrible for not knowing 3 letter words.
Anyway, I saw that your neighbor Backdoor Farrah is doing another movie. Cameo?
Someone should make a puzzles and wine pairing guide.
I LOVE PUZZLES. We do puzzles at our cottage over the summer. My husband stayed up until 1 a.m. finishing a puzzle. I dream of the day I can have a puzzle going without my kids destroying it with their tiny hands.
Oh my goodness. I love this. Every little bit of it! Jack was a huge puzzler. I have nooooo patience for it. His triumph was a 3000 piece under the sea puzzle that I think your family would have really enjoyed!
Dear Wendi,
My husband likes puzzles, too.
I make him do them in his man-cave which is in the basement. Naturally. It smells like mildew and desperation down there but you’re welcome anytime.
Love,
Denise