The Six Words Guaranteed To Unfix My Marriage
Watch out what you wish for.
I realize now.
I went into the new year hoping for doors to open.
Surely, I didn’t realize I had to more specific.
As in professional doors.
Because doors are opening alright.
All around me.
There’s my car door which won’t stay shut.
Our dishwasher broke its seal.
It won’t close.
Upside is the secret fun watching teenagers learn to wash dinner dishes by hand.
And finally, the shower door won’t close.
Which leads me to last Sunday.
And that reminder that you, Dear Male Reader, and we females, are wired so completely differently.
I, as the woman of the house, know when something breaks, there is one intelligent thing to do.
Call the Fix-It guy.
Husband, being a man, insists there is only one thing to do.
Invariably, it involves a drill.
And a case holding 104 bits.
Which he looks at with the same glee as the three-year-old boy next door looks at his Lego set.
A look I know well enough to get out of the way.
Which is where I would’ve stayed, if Husband hadn’t yelled out the six words potentially fatal to a marriage,
“Can you help me with this?”
That explains how I found myself Sunday, pulling, holding, yanking a shower door into just the riiiight position while Husband executed his plan to save the day.
“Execution,” one of the words that came to mind as I cringed watching him drill holes through the metal framing.
Somewhere in the “How To Be A Great Wife” books is a chapter on home repair.
How to keep quiet while Husband is creating home repair art.
I clearly never read that chapter.
For there is that basic life tenet I believe to be true.
No man is supposed to fix his own house.
Except maybe, The Property Brothers, twin stars of their own show on TLC.
And then only, Jonathan, the useful general contractor one.
Not slick Drew.
And need I point out, neither one of them is married.
Back to our bathroom.
And the drill.
Some swearing.
I won’t say from whom.
And the coaching.
From both sides.
“No, hold the door this way,” Husband corrected my stance.
“I think we just need to call a professional,” I dared to suggest.
“You’re not helping,” Husband informed me, asking me to “please be quiet.”
For the record, he did not say, “Shut up.”
Well, because we don’t say those words.
I think it went more like, “These are not helpful words a wife says at a time like this.”
I could only let his inner Home Repair Conquerer have his fill.
And his drill.
“Maybe it’s time to call someone,” he suggested in gracious defeat.
As I speed dialed the Fix It guy, I started thinking about how to handle the next household repair challenge.
Because you know, Dear Home Owner, that is inevitable.
How to save a home and a great marriage?
Our door is open for suggestions.
((Please catch my newspaper column each week in The Atlanta Journal Constitution, The Dayton Daily Mail, and Cox Newspapers across the country.))
