Reading directions goes against everything I believe in. Everything I stand for.
But sometimes, it pays to read the directions.
There, I said it.
And, yes, I know, someday soon, I will regret having uttered/written those very words.
However, sometimes when you violate your own value system, good things happen. At least, that’s the lesson Tigger recently taught me.
A little over two weeks ago, my husband came home with a Bounce Bounce Tigger. Only the coolest gift ever! On the off chance it escaped your notice, he’s the big Tigger in the photo above!
Not only is he cute and adorable, naturally, after all he’s a Tigger, but when I squeezed his paw he bounced and sang a little ditty.
I clapped my hands, squealed in delight and bounced right along with him. Yes, I know, technically I’m 43. But I’ll never be too old to bounce up and down and sing along with Tigger!
Clutching my precious new Tigger, I dashed upstairs and tucked him into the most highly coveted Tigger-spot in my entire writing cave – next to my computer.
For the next two weeks, whenever I sat at my computer to play with my imaginary friends (aka write my newest story) I paused, every few minutes, to squeeze Tigger’s paw and bounce up and down and squeal like a hyperactive two year old.
I love my Bounce Bounce Tigger. He’s a glorious Tigger.
Yet, in those two weeks, never once did it occur to me to read the accompanying directions.
And why should it have?
After all, if there’d been anything of significance in the directions, my husband surely would have told me, right?
After nine years of marriage, my husband no longer even bothers to suggest that I read directions. It’s only a waste of time and energy on both our parts. Not to mention a clear cut violation of my stated values.
However, Bounce Bounce Tigger arrived as Stuart was preparing for a business trip. Somehow, in the process of packing, he forgot this important husbandly duty, and the instructions remained unread.
Fortunately for me and Tigger, a few days ago I was struck by a lightning bolt of domesticity of the massive, transformational, housecleaning kind.
It was when I sat back to savor the Lysol fumes and lack of cat-box odor that I noticed, on my recently tidied desk, a small instruction booklet for my Bounce Bounce Tigger.
More out of curiosity than anything else, I flipped through it. After all, it was an instruction book, not my thing. However, when I noticed that the actual instructional component only comprised a half paragraph, I decided I could bend the rules, just once, and read it.
I know, it’s like an alien came and inhabited my body for a day.
Imagine my surprise, however, when I learned that my wonderful Bounce Bounce Tigger has two different modes: A Try-Me mode and a full on Play mode.
I wondered if it were possible that my husband, distracted by pesky business trip preparation related tasks, had missed this little detail and left my poor Tigger in Try-Me mode.
Sure enough, he had.
A situation I quickly remedied.
In Try-Me mode, Tigger’s singing and bouncing had been Tiggerly adorable, but oh so short.
Not so in Play mode. In Play mode, he bounced and sang and wiggity wiggled an entire bouncy song! Here’s a video clip, isn’t he the most perfectest thing ever?!
I couldn’t believe it! A whole two weeks he’d been sitting on my desk, confined to Try-Me mode, bursting with desire to display his full Tigger bounce.
I apologized profusely and Tigger and I have been bounce, bounce, bouncing like two peas in a pod ever since!
I shudder to think, what if I’d never read the directions? What if, in my whirlwind of housecleaning, I’d, gulp, tossed the directions? Directions are annoying documents that, in general, serve only to make my brain hurt. I have been known, on occasion, to nudge them into the garbage bin.
Fortunately, it’s almost like the Tigger within me knew my Bounce Bounce Tigger had so much more bounce and wiggity wiggle! After all, who would make a Bounce Bounce Tigger that only bounced in 5 second bursts?
And, lesson learned.
I have a rule against reading directions. And, for the most part, it’s a good rule. Reading directions is generally not good for my health.
But every once in a while, it pays to break the rules :-).
Hmmm, perhaps that isn’t the lesson I’m supposed to learn.
Perhaps, instead, to protect myself against moral degradation, next time I’ll just ask my husband to read the directions before he departs on his trip. Yes, much better idea!