I'm pretty sure I love home renovation. According to HGTV it's exciting and fun. Not only that, but it's also a great way to increase the value of your property, which is perfect because mine has none. But that's nothing a little blood, sweat, tears, vomit, cursing, bumps, bruises, and broken bones can't fix. You just have to put in a little elbow grease, and that's not something you can buy at Home Depot because I checked.
One of the first things you have to do before renovating your home is figure out whether or not you have a hammer. This is the single most important tool capable of handling everything from driving nails to smashing thumbs. I like to make sure I have hammers of all shapes, sizes, colors, and nationalities before I even think about starting a project. I'm an equal opportunity hammer operator.
Once I have all of my hammers ready, it's time to get to work deciding which walls to tear out, in which room, and with what skills. These are all important questions, and as I stare at all of my hammers I start to get the feeling that I don't have any answers. In the end I decide to rip out the bedroom. It should require the least amount of effort and I can lie down if I get tired.
As I dual-wield my hammers I go absolutely nuts on the walls and ceiling. I swing to and fro in devastating alternating blows like a giant, industrial-strength woodpecker of mass destruction. Drywall is flying everywhere as I pummel the room mercilessly. I'm going at it with such gusto that I'm even scaring myself. Then I start screaming as I continue to shred the walls like it's nobody's business, because it isn't.
Suddenly, just as I'm hitting my groove I hear shouting behind me. Apparently I've awoken my wife who was in bed behind me. She never was a heavy sleeper. She has a confused and angry look on her face, mixed in with a little drywall as she yells, "What the hell are you doing destroying our bedroom at 2 in the morning?!" I respond with, "Oh sorry. Did I wake you?", trying to diffuse the situation. It doesn't work. Instead, she repeats her question in an even louder and more angry tone. "Now who's being loud!?", I say. She's always been a bit of a hypocrite.
Needless to say, I wasn't able to finish the bedroom renovations. Not only that, but my wife tells me we're hiring a contractor to finish the job. I try to argue with her but she tells me, and I quote, "You can't even build a sandwich". That may be partially true but I don't see what cooking has to do with anything. She can be such a foodie sometimes.
Once the contractor begins work on the bedroom I stand behind him and observe. After everything he does I say, "That's what I was going to do". I say it every time he measures a wall, pulls a nail, or checks his watch. Eventually, he gets irritated and asks me to leave the room. I would, but then how will he know what I was going to do?
As I continue standing behind him, telling him all the things I was going to do, he blows up and yells, "Maybe you should do this yourself!" But I assure him he's doing fine. Some people are so insecure.
At some point, for some reason, and after some cursing, shoving, and hammer throwing, the contractor storms out before the job is done. I look at my wife like, "That guy was unprofessional". She then looks back at me with such anger that I immediately know we won't be hiring him again. That's fine by me. I'll probably do a better job anyway, I think to myself. But that's when my wife shoves me out of the bedroom and slams the door.
After my wife finishes the bedroom renovation I ask which room we should do next. I can tell she's not quite ready by the way she starts choking me. I just give her a big hug and tell her we'll wait until tonight. Marriage is all about compromise. That's something I've learned over the course of the kitchen, bathroom, and living room remodels. All of which my wife did a great job on, just like I was going to do.
