They say "Those who can't do, teach". I've always lived by the motto "If you can't do it, do it anyway, and Spackle what you can before Husband gets home." Try putting that on a throw pillow; I did, and now my finger perpetually points skyward, making me look about five times more pious than I should, but I've become accustomed to small sacrifices in the name of trying to do things on my own. Not that I don't have a little bit of talent. When I replaced the molding around the bedroom door, it looked good as new. Yes sir, building equity one, upside down piece of lumber at a time...
Holding his hand, I told him as gently as possible. "Good Sir, my heart is heavy for I have done it again."
Husband, unable to break the cosmic bond with the TV, stared ahead. "What's that?"
"I broke the most sacred pact we made over the hallowed grounds of paint, nails and old hand saws... I maybe..um...tried to do another project by myself. Behead me if you must. I shall go nobly. But when I go, promise not to eat all the Oreos, because I've only had four, tonight."
Brows knit, he turned. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. Well, you see that door handle over there? Yeah, it wouldn't be there if I'd been successful."
"Successful? Honey, what do I always tell you?"
I considered. "Never feed the Mogwai after midnight."
"No, the other thing."
"When we're hunting vampires and you say, "Babe, throw me a stake", you don't want yours medium rare?"
He put his head in his hands. "We agreed that we'd do the home improvements together. Because you always start them and I end up finishing them. Right?"
Eyes wide, I blinked back. It's not that his concern was unwarranted. My skill with home projects does leave something to be desired - Some even say when Bob Vila tells scary stories around the campfire, they're all about me. But this time I'd really thought I could do it all by myself. Change the door handle on the coat closet. But no one told me I wouldn't be able to get the old one off the door, first. So, after fifteen minutes of trying, I'd thrown in the towel.
Husband sighed. "We'll do all of the doorhandles at the same time."
"But they're so ugly, I thought I'd get the process started."
"And where'd that scratch in the door come from?"
"Oh...I couldn't get the old handle off, so that's a unique representation of the carving they found at Roanoke."
"I see. Where's the new handle you bought?"
"I'm glad you asked. It's out on the workbench, and with your help, I think we can get this finished..."
So Readers, if you happen to be handy, how do you feel about fixing a door handle..?
Until Next Time, Readers!