He puts on a good show, banging at things randomly with a hammer and making statements like, “If only I had a jigsaw, I’d install a bay window in the bedroom and build you a new coffee table.”
Although I’ve convinced him to leave electrical issues to professionals because of the danger of electrocution, everything else is fair game.
His last plumbing-related project resulted in the kitchen sink hanging off a couple of rusted bolts while we waited for a plumber who worked holidays to put things back together. (These DIY disasters always happen on weekends and holidays when the tradesmen make double time.)
So when the toilet became clogged last week, I suggested (nagged, really) that we call a plumber. Indoor plumbing is the one thing that separates us from the animals and I wasn’t prepared to risk ours.
My sailor insisted he was up to the job.
After an hour in the bathroom swearing like, well a sailor, he emerged to announce he didn’t have the necessary parts. He needed a toilet rebuilding kit. He’s obviously a better handy man than I am as I didn’t even know these kits existed, nevermind that you could get them at Walmart.
I won’t pretend things went smoothly afterward. There was more blue language and my sailor suffered several scrapes, a blood blister on his index finger and a mysterious gash on his head. (They’re not lying when they say head wounds bleed profusely.)
All the aggravation and minor injuries were worth it, though–my sailor successfuly rebuilt the toilet! We now enjoy gold standard flushes.
I just might get my bay window and new coffee table after all.