Monday, June 18, 2012

Taking Advantage of The Hooligans' Father

Our house has been in need of a doorbell ever since we bought it--6 years ago.  There's a place all set up to wire one in, so if The Man Who Lives In My House had his way, he would have ordered something on line and paid someone to install it.

His way is not my way.  I kept my eye open for the perfect door bell and found this:


It was at a very random estate sale a couple of months ago.  It was not one of those houses where everything is awesome.  It was ordinary dishes and household stuff that was a bit overpriced.  This thing, though, was $75 (which seemed very reasonable), only I found it on Sunday, so it was half price.  When you pull the chain, the little man's arm moves and the bell rings.  

I brought it home with a lot of triumphant crowing.  The Man was dubious.  "It's kind of weird."  he said.  "And how are we going to install it?  Drilling into the stucco makes me nervous. "  So it sat in the closet. 

Enter Father's Day.  The Man requested a very traditional/stereotypical gift:  A new grill.  Saturday I hie'd myself to True Value to buy one.  I knew better than to wait for the perfect thrifted grill:  that would not meet The Man's needs.  While I was at it, I brought my Doorbell thing along and consulted with Simon, the hardware expert, about how to install it into the stucco entryway.  Simon set me up with a masonry bit and several other widgets.  Then I ordered the proper grill which will be assembled and delivered by those nice people on Wednesday.  I love my hardware store. 

The Man was in a cheerful, traditional and stereotypical Father's Day mood.  The time was right to ask him to perform Handyman chores.  Ordinarily he HATES this stuff.  He wants to like it, but mostly he  finds installing hooks or wiring a light or painting a wall tedious and aggravating.  On the other hand, he thinks I do these tasks in a random and haphazard manner, which is true.  So I handed him the bag of supplies, passed along Simon's advice and left him alone.  

The result:

He is extremely and deservedly pleased with himself.  "I did not even swear!" he pointed out, ""And it's really cool!"  Well duh.  To thank him, I made him a gin and tonic, and did all the clean up.  
  

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Reptiles were not in the fine print

Neither was football, but that's another post.

A perfectly horrible day, kicked off by the younger hooligan crying quietly int his waffles as he comtemplated what to write in his teacher's end-of-the-year thank you card.  He loves his teacher, loves school and hates goodbyes.  Every year we go through this, but usually it doesn't happen until the last bell rings.  This teacher is particularly spectacular.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the lair of the 12 year old, the gecko was missing.

Hysteria ensued.

I have trouble relating to the affection my elder son feels for his gecko. But there it is.  And the social studies final was set to commence in a mere hour.  How was he ever going to remember details of ancient chinese dynasties when the lizard was not in her proper place.

If he hadn't yelled at the smaller hooligan when he came to help search, I would have had more sympathy.  Even without sympathy, I spent the entire morning excavating all the dust/spare change etc. from under every bed, bookcase etc. upstairs.  To no avail.  At least it's a lot cleaner.

I have been accused of being glad she is gone.  I am not, if only because now I will worry that she is going to re-appear, say, in my hair at one in the morning.

Sleep well!