Mrs. Fix-it

Accord to Laura, one of my wife’s illustrious co-workers, I don’t include my lovely wife enough on the blog. I think she may be right. I would like to say that it isn’t a deliberate omission on my part. She’s there if you read between the lines. For instance, most of the good ideas are hers. And, the bargain building supplies we seem to stumble across? She finds those, not me.

My role in the whole Devil Queen project is one part Barney Fife, one part unskilled labor, one part draftsman, and one part enabler/translator. You need someone to injure themselves with a power tool? I’m your man. You need someone to haul a few thousand bricks? Call me. You need someone to sketch out your dream kitchen? I can do that. You need me to turn “I want one of these things, and you turn it her, and can we run the water here?” into “She wants the antique, wall mount sink here with a chrome S-trap and the water feed run up and out this wall. Move the outlet too.” I’m your man.

Now, since I do a majority of the blog posts, things tend to be John-centric. Sure, I’m a raving egomaniac, but it isn’t why my wife isn’t front and center more. It’s because I spend a lot of time writing about what is wrong, and that inevitably comes back to me.

In short, I write about me a lot because I do a lot of stupid things.

For example, my wife picked the kitchen color scheme. I think it looks great and have said so. I would have never thought of it myself, so she gets all the credit. That makes for a pretty short post. Now, tearing my thumb off with a drill attachment? That takes a lot more explaining.

One of our more recent near disasters occurred this last week. To make it short, I paid Kenny out of the wrong checking account on accident. Ooops. Thankfully, everything got sorted out and no one was upset (except me).

When Scarlet showed up at the Devil Queen with a fat wad of cash, she asked Kenny why he called her and not me.

Kenny grinned, “You’re Mrs. Fix-it, aren’t you?”

Well said.