There are two main reasons why Chris and I do not own a house. One is that silly money thing. The second is neither one of us are good at home repairs in any way. At least in rentals we know there is a chance things will get fixed. We live in New England. We live across the street from a beach. Our air conditioners have not left our windows since installed. Regardless of rain, sleet, snow or trapped birds, the air conditioners never move. Ever. Some of our windows open but most cannot. Some of them have screens. During the very coldest months we get real brilliant and tack bright blankets up over the windows. Everything becomes darker and yet more colorful in a circus gone wrong kind of way.
I have mentioned before that I am the Dark Side of Donna Reed. I have killed a cactus, wilted a sunflower and have had plastic flowers die under my watch. These hands are not suited to nurture things or fix them, they are excellent at breaking however. This had never bothered me, I assumed my HUSBAND would do those things anyway. I am a fool. When Chris lived at his grandparents home, I would watch his grandfather putter across the lawn, lush, flourishing grass and flowers everywhere. I saw the amazing unmarred wood beams, no exposed wires anywhere and I noticed that his grandfather knew what each tool seemed to be for. It never occurred to me that these were skills that had to be learned.
Imagine my surprise when our first Christmas living together I gave Chris a new shiny toolbox with tools and he said, “They are neat looking, but what do I do with them?” I can identify a hammer, a screwdriver and a wrench. That is about as far as my knowledge goes. Chris can identify what all the different tool are for, he even knows their names, but he cannot apply them. Together, we are dangerous. Recently, we entered a Home Depot store and it was a tad overwhelming to us. Remember, the scene in the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and the Lion are all huddled together tentatively heading up the hallway? We had the same looks of awe and fear on our faces as we navigated the aisles of Home Depot.
Everyone else in the store seemed to know what they wanted and why. Only Chris and myself were stumbling about, having no idea what to buy, what anything did and I kept pulling Chris away from the shelves for fear of a freak nail gun/paint can/timber accident. Eventually we bought a few things and all I can think is after we left the cashier went to the manager and said, “Did you see the crazy couple that staggered through here for an hour or so? You know, the ones Leroy found lost in the back circling the patio tiles over and over again? Well, they just left and I am wondering if I should call the police or just check the headlines of the newspaper tomorrow morning? Judging by what they bought here, they are going on a Tri State killing spree dressed as lumberjacks,planning to torture their victims with glue, nails, Christmas garland, wallpaper and a hammer with a rubber grip. You should have seen that woman trying to jam goggles, gloves and see through tacks into a bag, it was terrifying, she was muttering the whole time. As for her husband, the tall guy with the eye tick, I don’t even want to speculate what he plans on doing with the bungee cord and plastic sheeting!”