Why Don’t We Just Skip To The End Of Part C?

My husband is the kind of person who will come home with something that includes instructions — a toy, an appliance, an electric tool, anything — open up the box, pull out the manual, and immediately throw it over his shoulder before trying to make sense of the purchase with nothing but his intuition.

I’ve gotten into the habit of collecting the discarded instructions, taking a seat in the room, and reading through them as he starts working on it himself, watching as he struggles to make use of it, and keeping track of the progress through the manual to match how far he’s made it after much trial and error.

Husband: “Why do they make these things so difficult?”

Outcome A, with about 3% likelihood: he renders his new purchase completely unusable by breaking an important part or doing something in the wrong order, requiring him to get a new one at a later date. In the latter case, if I see it happening in time, I’ll try to stop him.

Outcome B, with about 25% likelihood: he manages to make it work. It takes a lot longer than it SHOULD, but he gets there.

Outcome C, the rest of the time: he puts his new purchase down before he ruins anything, and says:

Husband: “Guess I’m going to have to read the manual.”

Whereupon I will hand him the manual, point out where he’s gotten so far, and watch him progress much more smoothly.