Sometime I say to myself, "Why am I still married?" I mean none of us are perfect and I'm not easy to be around most of the time, but my husband Mike gives new meaning to the commercial that says, "We repair what you're husband fixed." If you've read my blogs before you know that I have mentioned some of the horrors I have survived because Mike can't ever find his "round to it." I just keep telling myself that a lot of people have it so much worse, but that only helps for about 5 seconds. See, I was used to having things repaired as soon as they tore up when I was living at home with my Mom. My Dad, Jack, could fix anything even though he was born with only one hand. After his passing in 1971, my grandfather Tom was the go-to man, but he never could do things on his own so that's when my cousin, Glen Rigsby came to the rescue. They worked well into the night to fix washing machines, water leaks, stopped up pipes, and anything wrong with our cars. Mom and I fixed several things on our own. We moved furniture, mowed the lawn, had the oil changed in the car, took out the trash, fixed the commode, repaired broken objects with Krazy glue, hammered nails, painted the house and all kinds of stuff that most women don't ever have to do. If we couldn't fix it, we had someone lined up who could and we insisted it be fixed ASAP. You would think that after all these years I would be used to the fact that my husband never, ever finishes anything he starts, but the older I get the less patience I have.
I have never had the virtue of patience. If I could have done anything about it, I would not have waited 9 months to have my children. That's too long to wait on anything. I don't know, sometimes I think my days must be longer than Mike's because I get twice as much done as him. Mike's latest project has gotten way out of control. Not many people know about this not even my Facebook friends because I've tried to not mention it. March 31 of this year was Easter Sunday. My son Neil brought his sons, Camden and Gray down for the day. We all got together at Kyle's house for dinner. What I remember most is that is was the day that Mike tore our main bathroom apart. Ever since we built our house in 2003, I noticed that the shower was leaking. Years went by with me asking Mike if he would take time to check out why the shower was leaking. His reply was always, "I will." Once there was small mushrooms growing in the tile grout. Then I noticed that the floor was starting to sag and the foundation on the outside of the house was wet. Mike still said, "I'll check it." After ten years he finally "looked" at it and agreed that we had a leak and was going to need a new shower. The shower Mike installed when we moved in wasn't installed correctly so all the water was flowing out the bottom of the shower onto the floor. You would think that would be apparent to anyone, but obviously it didn't bother Mike one bit.
Mike along with Kyle's help, took the shower out and threw it away. He took up the ceramic tiles, which was easy because they had come loose from the floor and most were cracked anyway. All was left was the sink and the commode. He put plywood over the hole where the floor was and that was it. Yes, I said that was it. I tried not to keep bringing it up, but I couldn't help it. April, May came and went with no activity. In June Mike thought he could make me happy by saying he had went by a few places in London and looked at tile. Seriously, that was supposed to suffice? He even brought brochures home. Then he put it all on me. He said I needed to go pick out my tile. I did, went to Lowe's as soon as I could. Mike met me there, I showed him what I liked and we left. We didn't buy anything, we just looked. I tried to get him to hire the guy in London to come and do the whole job. He gave an estimate on materials, labor tax etc. To me it would have been a dream come true to have someone who knew what they were doing come to the house and actually fix my bathroom in less than a week. If it took longer, I would have still be over the moon because at least he was trying.
In June, my cousin came down from Ohio to visit for the weekend. It really didn't matter to her that we only had a bathtub that she would be sharing with us. I tried to keep the door to the other bathroom closed hoping she wouldn't have to go in there and see the mess. Sometime in July, Mike announced he was getting someone he knew to come and look at the bathroom. That person came and looked and left. I talked Mike into calling him back after a couple of weeks and beg him to come and lay the tile. Sometime in late July, that guy came. He worked one day and left. I didn't see or hear from him again until August. My cousin came back for another visit and we still shared a bath. She's too good of a person to say anything, but she agreed it needed to be fixed. Ironically, the man showed up the weekend she was her. He woke her up early hammering. He actually laid a few tile that day. A week or so later he came back and laid some more tile. He finished his work in two days. Once he got started, things went smoothly.
September went by with Mike pretending to do a little work every other day. He would go in the bath with a measuring tape and come back out five minutes later or he would go in there with a piece of pipe and glue for five minutes. Anyhow, what I'm getting at is that it's now October 3 and I still don't have my bathroom fixed. Mike got tired of me making him clean the tub everyday so he found some old fixtures, put them up so he can at least take a shower now. I wanted a nice shower door, but that's never going to happen so I am the highest bidder on ebay for one slightly used shower curtain with stars on it. The boards are still there and I'm sure a wild animal will be coming in out of the cold any time now. My plan there is to hire the Turtleman and hopefully make my big break into TV where I will denounce men until they cancel my show. It also doesn't smell too good in there and I'm afraid to ask what the smell is. In my mind, I had things pictured just the way I wanted the room to look, but now I'll be happy just to have a floor. I pray everyday that nothing else will ever tear up because it will stay torn up for the rest of my life. Actually, my car doesn't have a radio. All it needs is an antenna, but Mike told me back in June that he would fix it. And, the kitchen sinks leaks so bad that you get your feet washed while you are washing dishes, but he's going to get a new faucet.....when, not in my lifetime.
I know when you have a house or a car or even a lawn mower, that things tear up. I expect that. What I don't expect is for them not to get fixed. I thought writing this would make me feel better, but I'm madder than ever now. Why am I still married?
Stories about four generations living in rural Ky.
