The Playhouse...the part that almost killed me!

So perhaps y'all are sick of hearing about the Playhouse.  To be honest, I am a little bit sick of it too.  However, I'll continue to tell you about it....darn it.  And here's why.  'Cuz it's cool...and all encompassing...and I almost died!  Here's the story:

So.  The roof was done.  Now, it was time to put the tin onto the roof.  And you know how to do that?  By climbing up on the roof and putting it on.  Here's the pictures:

There's my fantastic husband on the roof of the playhouse.  My fantastic husband who HATES heights.  Up there.  On the 12/12 pitch roof.

Doesn't he look happy?  Well, he was.  Kinda.  Until he told me that I needed to help him.  And to help him, I needed to move the freaking long 50 ft. ladder from the front of the playhouse, over very muddy and uneven ground with roots sticking out everywhere, where it is very slippery.  Let me tell you.  I learned something about myself on this day.  I learned that "Ladders are my nemesis."  Truly, they are!

Art tells me to move the ladder.  And I think, "No problem.  It's a ladder.  I've moved many a ladder...  And I've watched him do it a hundred times.  And I'm a strong cookie!" 

That's where it all started.  I tried to move this thing.  And let me tell you.  It was heavy.  Very heavy.  So I moved it about 2 ft., when I realized, "I cannot do this.  Really.  I cannot."  So, I proceed to tell me husband that.  And he tells me that I must.  Instantly, I am annoyed.  Really, I'm tough.  But the ladder is tougher.  So Art starts telling me what to do....in a language that I am sure is not English.  I do not understand a blessed word that he is saying.  Which I keep trying to tell him.  And he keeps insisting that I listen...which I do, but cannot understand....

Anyhow, to make a very, very long story short(er), I finally move it to the back of the playhouse.  Where I think have to climb up the ladder to the very top rung.  And by that time, the clamps that Art put on there to make sure that it stayed away from the roof have moved.  So his genius idea to fix this is for me to climb up the ladder (to the very top rung), let go of the tree which I am holding on to for dear life because it's right beside the ladder, push it away from the tree house (really, Art?  Really?!), and move the clamps.  Of course, I am in my right mind.  So that is never going to happen.  Ever.  We compromise...somehow...and I end up at the top of the ladder, helping him get the first row of tin on.

I climb down the ladder, relieved to be done with (trying to) work with my new found enemy, and my wonderful husband (love him!!  didn't really like him at this point), tells me that I need to move the ladder back.  To the front of the playhouse.  Really, Art?  Really?  Do we need to go there again?!  I, of course, being 'strong like bull' finally get it back to the front....and he climbs down, and I proceed to fall in to a sobbing, frustrated mess.  I truly was a hot mess!  After the release of that, I gather my wits about me, and we move on.  But this one thing I know:  my wonderful, fabulous husband will never ask me to help him with a very large and unruly ladder again.  So, in that sense, I suppose I did accomplish something!

The bugger about the whole thing is that I watch him use this very same ladder all the time, and every time he moves it, I think, "Dang!  That looks so easy...I'm sure I could do that!"

Who knew that a ladder could by my nemesis?!  We learn something new every day.....!