With bouts of warm weather, in between blizzards, I’m struggling to be patient. I realize it’s a little early, as it’s only January, but my cabin fever is in full swing, so I decided to do some spring cleaning.

He gets nervous when I get the itch to start an indoor project, as it usually ends up I clean something so well it no longer works or organize junk drawers to the point he can’t find anything. This time I took it a step further, literally.

Anytime I mention a project, which might include moving furniture or using a power tool, he gives me the run-around. It’s not like he’s telling me it can’t be done, but he has mastered the art of putting me off until I move on to something else.

When I had the house to myself last weekend, I decided to start reorganizing the playrooms. This wasn’t by happenstance, as I started mentally mapping out the project (silently, of course) when it was announced the Chiefs made the playoffs. With no doubt he would be in attendance, the game was on, in this house anyway.

In the corner of the playroom were two solid oak file cabinets, holding files we haven’t looked at for more than 10 years, and they really needed to go. I’d mentioned at least 10 times, over the past 10 years, these cabinets could be moved from the playroom, since they weren’t being utilized. My rule of thumb is, if I’ve received the runaround for more than a decade, it’s fair game to coordinate a play-action pass of my own.

I tackled the smaller cabinet without much of a game plan. I went first, it followed, step by step, on my hip, until we made it to the bottom. I had cardboard waiting to make it easier to slide across the carpet to its new location in the hallway. The second, larger cabinet, was emptied of its contents and after the first few steps down I realized it was much heavier than I had anticipated. Struggling to keep my balance, I tried pushing it back up to rethink the situation. That wasn’t going to be an option.

I stood there for several minutes, while stopping the cabinet from slamming down the steps with my entire body, wondering how bad it was going to hurt if it plowed over the top of me and how mad he would be when it busted a hole through the wall when it hit the bottom.

I may have bruises on my arms and thighs from bumping it down a flight of stairs and made several trips to the chiropractor, but both cabinets were moved without any mishaps.

This isn’t my first blitz. After the Chief’s victory I texted him a photo of the cabinets sitting in the hallway and said, “surprise!”

He’s seeing red right now, but not about the cabinets. As long as the Chiefs win on Sunday I may avoid a personal foul and will hopefully be in the end zone.

Sandy Turner lives in Independence. Email her at sandydownhome@hotmail.com.