The Chaos Chronicles: HFM & Power Tools
This summer, I had the pleasure (note the sarcasm) of experiencing hand, foot, and mouth disease firsthand. My daughter—already a veteran of this virus—caught it again, and this time I wasn’t spared. Apparently, there are different strains, and lucky me, I hit the jackpot.
Of course, it arrived just as Airdrie finally decided to give us real summer heat, right at the end of August. Imagine being forced into quarantine, trying to “soak up” the season while battling blisters on your hands and feet. Spoiler: the heat was not our friend.
By day three of quarantine, my daughter was thriving—kids somehow can endure anything—but I was bored out of my mind. We read through her entire library (50+ books, series included), played pretend space missions, hunted for aliens, and still had endless hours to fill. Naturally, I turned to Amazon for boredom relief… and then Facebook Marketplace.
And that’s where fate intervened: a free wooden playhouse.
A few texts and the recruitment of my father-in-law’s truck later, the playhouse was in pieces in our garage. I felt thrifty and clever, until reality hit: outdoor paint and supplies set us back $150. Still, I had bins of event décor stashed in “Le Sous-Sol” (a.k.a. my basement) to decorate later, so surely this was still a bargain.
Round One: Pressure Washing Disaster
During nap time, I attacked the playhouse with our pressure washer. Bad idea. It barely stripped the paint, left chunks everywhere, and coated the driveway and car in paint flecks. Lesson learned.
Round Two: Palm Sander vs. Screws
My husband suggested the palm sander. Success! Well… until the vibrations popped loose screws like confetti. Still, I pressed on—because if I was going to do this, it was going to be splinter-free perfection. Unfortunately, a rogue screw got sucked into the motor, and the sander died a noisy death. That’s when I learned it wasn’t even ours—it belonged to my father-in-law. Guess what he’s getting for his birthday?
Round 3: Family Fun Time (a.k.a. Disaster)
Once painting time rolled around, I thought, Let’s make core memories! So my husband, daughter, and I suited up in paint-friendly clothes and got to work. For about 10 minutes, it was sweet. Then I realized the roller left a terrible finish, voiced my opinion, and while distracted, my daughter spilled paint. Chaos escalated.
Within moments, my husband and daughter abandoned “family fun time” and retreated indoors, leaving me to paint solo under the blazing sun—blisters swelling, gloves trapping sweat, and me questioning every decision that brought me here.
Round 4: the Rusty Nail
Finally, I finished painting. As my husband and daughter joined me outside, I took off my flip-flops (blisters demanded freedom) and—of course—stepped directly onto a rusty nail. Clean in, clean out, straight through my heel. It didn’t hurt much compared to chronic pain, but the sight of blood had my daughter frozen in horror.
My husband patched me up with paper towel while my daughter offered an “Inside Out” band-aid, fittingly featuring Fear and Anger. A quick call to HealthLink 811 and my sister-in-law confirmed I was covered from my pregnancy Tdap shot—crisis averted.
The Aftermath
In the end, despite power tool casualties, paint wars, and a tetanus scare, the playhouse turned out beautiful. I transformed it into a little Snow White cottage with repurposed décor, and now it’s a favourite spot for my daughter (and even the dog).
Would I do it again? Absolutely not. So my dog will not be getting his own doghouse. But watching my daughter play in that house, I know the chaos was worth it. After all, isn’t that the point of parenthood—turning disasters into memories?
✨ Lessons Learned:
Free on Marketplace doesn’t mean free.
Never underestimate the destructive power of a palm sander.
Chronic pain still beats a tetanus shot.
Worth all the lessons learned! Can’t wait to see the memories we make with this playhouse.
