He’s the best guy ever.
If you give my husband a task, he will do it right every time. It isn’t even necessary to ask him to do something. I have learned in the last three decades that just having the task in his line of vision gets it done. I know, this is not typical. Lucky me.
Here’s an example. In my stocking for Christmas I received a metal hook. When I asked what it was for I was told it would be hung on the bottom of my soap dish so that I could suspend a washcloth from it. (Who thinks of this stuff? My stocking is always exciting.) When he determined that the hook was not the perfect color, he spray painted it in the basement.
Still I wasn’t convinced of our dire need for a washcloth hanger in our shower. But I never liked the position of our kitchen light. (You wonder, how are these things connected? Read on.)
On New Year’s Day I slid the kitchen table about a foot closer to the windows and didn’t say a word about it.
The next day, when he almost hit his head (the light it pretty low) I just mentioned that I liked the table better where I shoved it. He didn’t disagree, but began his silent contemplation of how to address the issue (so he wouldn’t hit his head everyday.)
Overnight, he thought of the spray painted washcloth hook. And his mind wouldn’t let it go–like a dog with a bone, that guy.
Yesterday afternoon he told me his plan. He found some gold chain and spray painted it to match the hook which, by chance, also matches the light. This morning the paint was dry so he changed out the light chain for a longer one so he could drape it over to the hook which he would place precisely above the newly positioned table.
Unfortunately, from the attic, he could see that there was no stud to hang the hook from. Even though the hook (which he originally purchased for a twenty ounce washcloth) could hold up to sixty pounds in drywall, and the light weighs about twenty-five pounds, he really wanted to suspend it in wood. So, obviously he had to reinforce the drywall with a two by four screwed between the ceiling joists. For this maneuver, his awl was punched through the ceiling drywall so he could find the spot from the attic. MacGyver, I’m telling you.
Three hours later, the light is positioned.
Now he just has to patch the drywall around the three nailpops he made while walking around in the attic. Patch, sand, paint.
Maybe next week we’ll move the table back into place.