Drill me, baby
Honestly, I thought I had another 40 years to go before I installed some secure handlebars in the bathroom for Herb. Our bathroom being what it is, however (tiny with no sink but with a tub on feet), and Herb being what he is (a poor guy who is not allowed to put any pressure on his foot or to bend his knee), I grit my teeth (literally last night, but that’s another story) and walked up to Canadian Tire (to realize on the way back that our local Harvey’s has passed on, thereby reducing the take-out options for car-less people by 25%) to buy some old folk’ safety handle bars. Installing them (it, really, as we don’t know whether we’ll need the second one — there’s already one installed on the bath wall), people was the highlight of my day (take into consideration that my boyfriend has turned into a puddle of pain and lack of patience on the couch). I’m a drill gal. I love drilling. In fact I love most power tools and tools more generally. I come fully equipped with everything from a level to a hand jig saw. I’m the one assembling furniture and putting shelves up. Now that I think about it, I realize the men in my life have all been too happy to make a fuss and I have never been given proper credit for doing all those things many men secretly hate (fools) but are usually required to do (by more fools, but anyway). I was raised by a woman who never asks for help if she can do something herself, and I’m glad to see how much that has rubbed off on me (I do wish I had her endless supply of energy though — my mom is the kind of woman who, if bored for a few minutes, is likely to go buy paint and change an entire room’s colour then and there. I can’t count the times I’ve called her only to hear “oh, and I repainted the kitchen this morning”. But install a hook in her house without consulting her first, and you’ll be taking that hook off pretty quick (and possibly while your ears are still shamefully red)). Autonomy is like a raft, and if yours is strong enough, in times of need you can take others aboard. Yes that is the most pathetic metaphor I’ve written today (if you spotted it, you win a green star! To collect said star, send your goons my way.), sorry, but it kind of works too. We’re all on my raft now and quite dry, thanks (that’s why I put the drill away… I was afraid I might start drilling holes in the bottom…).
February 13th, 2007 at 9:53 pm
moms r good
February 13th, 2007 at 9:59 pm
Still incommunicado with yours?