…AND, how I upset my husband without even knowing it:
So, ever since we moved into our house 4.5 years ago, we’ve been saddled with this disgusting-looking eyesore of a gas grill that was permanently connected to the ground via an underground gas line. The thing worked for awhile, but it was so crusty and nasty that I can’t even believe we ever used it. It’s since stopped working, and we’ve long since acquired a new grill. For at least two years now we have meant to have someone come out and disassemble the grill and cap the gas line. As with many things on our ever-growing mental “to-do” house project list, neither one of us ever really got around to actually making the call and getting this taken care of. Until last week- YAY ME!- called up the gas company to get the job done. Who knew that would not be the gas company’s job? Makes sense, doesn’t it? Underground gas line? Gas company? But no…they told me to call a plumber. A PLUMBER? MMmmmkay. Two minutes of thinking about that and I knew we’d be fine, because we have the best plumber this side of the Mississippi. (That does not mean he’s cheap; just keep that in mind). Our plumber rules because whenever he comes out to do some plumbing, he always ends up fixing some other stuff around the house as well. He’s kind of like your handy grandpa coming on over to fix your pipes, and then saying “while I’m at it, why don’t I alleviate the squeak to this door and get that broken-off lightbulb out of your light fixture, and pull out that toy that’s lodged in your bathtub drain.” I know what you’re all thinking here…naive me is being taken advantage of by the plumber who wants to clock more time in my house so he can charge me more. But I don’t think that’s the case. He’s just a super nice guy (remember, grandfatherly!) who likes to help a person out. AND since the man I’m married to is anything but a Handy Manny, I’ve got to take the assistance where I can get it. I digress…
Yesterday the plumber came out to take apart the gas grill. While he was out in the backyard trying to dislodge the post from the ground, he said something about the lamp post that’s also in our backyard. And I said something like oh yeah that thing. That can go away too, as far as I’m concerned. This was just a remark I made off hand, in another moment of “let’s clean up/get rid of/organize this place!” The lamp post, just like the gas grill, has not worked in at least two years. Something broke inside the fixture portion of the lamp, and non-Handy Manny made zero effort at even an attempt at fixing it. I’ve always thought the lamp post was super random sticking out of our backyard anyway, so in addition to the broken lantern and peeling paint, I was more than ready to see the lamp post go. So, with a little pounding and sawing and line-cutting, my favorite plumber helped me rid our yard of not one, but TWO eyesores.
Then I called FatJ to tell him the great news. Ugly grill gone!!! Completely random lamp post that doesn’t work gone!!!!! YAY ME! Tidying up the backyard and taking names! To which FatJ replied,
WHAT?! You got rid of the lamp post? YOU GOT RID OF THE LAMP POST? WHY did you do THAT?
Um, because it was ugly and didn’t work and had peeling paint and you never fixed it and we never use it.
WHAT?! The lamp post is gone?? I LIKED THAT LAMP POST!!!!!
Whoa. Did I ever feel bad then. Not that bad, but a little bad. I mean, how was I to know that my husband had a love affair with that lamp post? Had he taken the time to fix it, clean it, paint it, maintain it, then maybe I would have known his true feelings about the lamp post. But I had no idea. None.
Guess that just goes to show that you never truly know everything about the person you’re married to.
And now I just need my favorite electrician brother-in-law to stop by and do something about those electrical wires sticking up out of the ground…