Monday, April 26, 2010

Someone Almost Got Murdered With A Squeegee This Weekend

Isn’t squeegee like the best word ever? Almost as good as the word cake. Squeegee. Awesome.

*ahem*

Anyway.

So our house is turning 7 years old this summer. I didn’t think that was very old for a house. The house I grew up in was almost 100 years old when my parents sold it and the only problem I remember about it was the ghost that hung out there. I’ll tell you that story later. Maybe.

But now I’m thinking that maybe my selfish child/teenage brain didn’t pay much attention back when I was living there, because my 7 year old house is falling apart. Okay, maybe only parts of it are falling apart. Okay fine, none if it is falling apart. It’s just breaking down a little bit. Maybe houses are like dogs and 7 years is more like 49 years? Because we’ve had to replace parts in both of our air conditioners (yes, we have two because we’re fancy rednecks, thankyouverymuch). And our kitchen tiles are cracking and buckling spontaneously and 5 of our windows have broken seals so they have that foggy, wet look about them. Our landscaping that looked so cute and neat when we moved in is now overgrown and jungle-like. Our sprinkler system only works on manual mode and sometimes it comes on even when it’s turned completely off. You get the picture. Lots of little projects to be tackled.

Because we have no money to pay professionals for all these projects, Captain Carl and I have been learning a lot about home improvement. And hiding the kitchen knives from each other. Yeah. We do not work well together. Things could get real stabby around our place real quick if either of us had easy access to pointy things.

See, the problem is that both of us are experts at everything. Curtain rod installation? Experts. Air filter replacement? Experts. Hedge clipping? Total experts. So with all this expertise floating around, it’s hard to do any projects without the words “fuck” and “you” being thrown about. You’d think after 7 years of wedded bliss and home ownership we would have learned by now to stagger the home improvement jobs far apart to give our marriage a chance to recover. After all, we almost got divorced over a vicious furniture moving incident two years ago. It was ugly, y’all. Pillows were flung, temper tantrums occurred.

Nope, haven’t learned a thing. For some reason this weekend, we decided to tackle not one but two projects. Landscaping on Friday and solar window film application on Sunday. It was like the MMA of matrimony. I have no idea what we were thinking. Well, I know what I was thinking...

Okay, this time just keep your mouth shut when he wants to do it the wrong way. Let him be all manly and shit and then when he does it wrong, you can fix it and smile serenely. It’ll kill him. It’ll be awesome.

I should totally win an award for being such a great wife.

So the landscaping went pretty well actually. We had already pulled out the old shrubs a few days before. He dug and I pulled and we only called each other jerks and assholes a couple of times. So all we had to do Friday was put in the new plants, which we did with no problems. I asked the Captain afterwards how we managed to get through it still speaking to each other and he was all “Probably because I don’t care about stupid plants.” and I was all “They aren’t stupid, they’re important!” and he was all “meh.” and I was all “Screw you then!” and he was all “Don’t take it personally, it’s no big deal.” and I was all “Your mom’s no big deal. Ha! I win!” *dancing pelvic thrusts*.

Like I said before: Me. Great Wife. Award. Right here. This lady.

So we got through the landscaping relatively unscathed and were feeling confident about our Sunday project of applying solar film to our bedroom windows. The Captain watched the instructional video on the laptop while I clipped coupons in the kitchen and yelled “Turned it up, I can’t hear it!” and “Wait, which side do we peel off?” and “We get to use razor blades? Sweet!”. That was pretty much the high point of the project. Then the Captain brought the ladder in and banged it into the wall and I asked him sweetly to please be careful and he irrationally screamed at me to shut my pie hole or something like that. I don’t know, the details are a little fuzzy and not important and no I did not start it. Shut up.

Then things got and stayed ugly. I won’t go into the sordid details, but let’s just say there was a lot of cursing and window film sticking to itself. It was a good thing the razor blades we used were dull. Also? There may or may not have been an incident involving a flying squeegee and Captain Carl’s head. Oh calm down, people. How was I supposed to know a rubber window cleaning device could rupture an eardrum? Geesh. It was totally accidental-ish.

20 comments:

cfoxes33 said...

You always make me giggle.

Cassie said...

I can sympathize b/c my husband and I almost got a divorce trying to paint our son's room. We'll have to rent for the rest of our lives b/c we have both vowed to NEVER take on another home improvement project together.

Sarah P said...

You should squeegee his eyebrows off while he's sleeping.

Be prepared to run.

kate said...

My husband and I also broke up over a game of Life. Seriously.

We're currently in the thick of about a million projects at our new house (and new projects seem to pop up every time we turn around)...if we make it through in one piece, it'll be a miracle.

Kurt said...

HAHHAHAHAHA!! You ladies! Always trying to "help"! HAHAHHAHAA!!

No I'm not married anymore. Why do you ask?

The Vegetable Assassin said...

You know what? Fuck all those "The Hills" type, nausea inducing reality shows, THIS Is where the reality is, right at Chez Yo Mama! I want to watch some holy acrimony, damn it! :) Squeegee throwing? Cussing? I'd pay premium channel prices for that!

Jules said...

Why would you EVER pair ANYTHING up with landscaping?????? You are certifiably insane! Landscaping alone almost ruined my marriage.....

Logical Libby said...

My husband cares for the outside of the house, I care for the inside. We don't go on each other's turf.

We are both still alive.

miss. chief said...

accident-ish! Haha!

Megs said...

I totally sympathize. The closest my husband and I have come to divorce involved putting together a Target desk, his inability to believe I might be right, and also his belief that I can just hold a 75 pound object in the air indefinitely while he mutters about screw holes. Also, his inability to understand spoken English in the middle of the project. How hard is it to understand that the loopy screw goes in the hole-y thing over there?

just making my way said...

We have lived in our house for almost four years and the poor thing is completely trashed. We are SO not handy - as is evidenced by our missing shingles, dandelion covered lawn and peeling paint. I'd invite you guys over to fix stuff...which could be comical...but I'd feel bad if you actually injured each other.

Liise said...

This is why I lay around and suggest stuff for the male to do. Then we he's all "let, blahblahblah the blah" I say "ok" and then sit on the couch and go vacant eyed.

Works for me

Wow, that was awkward said...

I'd like to second Kurt's comment in its entirety, especially the no longer married part.

Curiosity said...

Almost murdered totally doesn't count.

My hubby and I have not attempted home renovation since the Neverending Laminate Floor incident. It was not nearly as fun as the Story.

corticoWhat said...

My wife records and watches ALL of the HGTV shows. I call it the "devil's channel" and swear if you watch carefully you can catch the shadows of the 42 migrant workers that they never show on camera. It is physically impossible to replace a garbage disposal in 20 minutes! Even IF you read the instruction!

Vic said...

We stained a concrete floor a couple of years together. Acid and a pressure washer in the house is just asking for a fight. And some burning.

Tracey said...

holy fuck! I just noticed you have 313 followers!
You rock, Miss Yvonne!

Love ya and Jugs@@
GEM

Mama Wheaton said...

My husband and I do not do home improvements together, correct that he doens't do them at all and the house is falling apart. As for getting a divorce we almost got one over an episode of Cheers!

mossum said...

In addition to my own, I've renovated two investment houses. I'm simply mad about power tools, and although I may need 1,242 YouTube videos to learn how to do something, I'm not afraid to tackle any project. Finally divorcing Mr. Make-It-Worse enabled me to tackle these projects on my own home, so when my Insignificant Other moved in, he was smart enough to stand back and let me do. He's there to lift heavy objects if I need to call in reinforcement, but otherwise he defers to The Queen. Eff yeah.

Nej said...

I try to avoid doing projects around the house with Mot as much as possible. I'm more of the "try to do it by myself, and be mad the whole time because, darn it, HE should be doing this, not me" person.

Which then turns into (usually) the "oh yeah baby, look at what I did without him...who needs a man in the house when genius work like this is done without him" person.

:-)