Yesterday, I had a plan. It involved this:
Which is not so bad when you get Man-boy involved. Doesn't this look like a manly, confident arm?
All I wanted to do was change the closet supply under the kitchen sink (When you have well water and the cold water starts to smell funny, it's time to change the closet supply.) I have the new supply and the teflon tape. I have the 5/8 and the 11/16 wrenches. I've done this before. What can go wrong, right?
Well, for starters, the 5/8 is too small and the 11/16 is too big. Now, if you know anything about fractions and hand tools, you'll quickly figure out that 5/8 is the same as 10/16, which is the next size down from 11/16. There is no wrench between those two.
Houston, we have a problem.
And can we find the adjustable wrench? OF COURSE NOT. That would be WAY too easy. Part of my problem is that I know what tool I need, and I'm not willing to use something different. I want to be able to find the one I WANT.
Enter Man-boy, who is willing to use any tool at all, even if it's ten times too big. He found the biggest pair of channel locks in the garage and finished the job. He has mad plumbing skillz. And he knows how to rescue his mama.
Then today, Man-boy was down at the neighbor's house working, and took Pete the Terrible with him. Pete is not one to hang around watching you mulch flower beds when there are scents to smell, rabbits to chase, and, Ooooo! a squirrel! He is canine ADD in action.
So when Man-boy was finished, he hollered and Pete came running from who-knows-where. Pete came to my room where I was working and flopped down on the floor next to me.
There was no mistaking the oh-snap-what-on-earth-have-you-rolled-in smell. Pete was banished to the laundry room.
But salvation was waiting at the door in the form of Abbie, who actually likes the dog and can't stand to see him in jail. He got a warm bath and sudsy massage when what he deserved was a dunk in the cold river.
Actually, he's an incredible chicken. He was crying and shaking the whole time, and Abbie was talking to him in a sweet little reserved-for-babies voice. I'm the owner of a 70-pound bulldog who is afraid of getting a bath. *rolling eyes*
How was your day?
Be thankful ~