Today was the day. My first day married in my own home alone, while Marc headed back to the farm to work. Naturally I was excited to show the full extent of my new-found wife-dom. I immediately started cleaning and organizing our kitchen with all our wonderful new kitchen gadgets and gizmos. This was when disaster struck.
I had just pulled the packaging off of a new and oh-so-lovely skillet. I noticed as I pulled the packaging off, that the glue on it was exceptionally sticky. Of course I noticed too late because at this moment, the paper fell directly onto the counter. No biggie right? Wrong. The paper came off the “non-stick” pan quite nicely, and also stuck to our non “non-stick” counter tops just as well. (Meaning that the darn thing wouldn’t come off.) Great. Day one of official wife-dom and I broke the counters. I frantically scratched and rubbed at the counters till my fingers were raw, but to no avail.
“Goo gone!” I finally thought triumphantly, which then ensued a full-out search of the previous bachelor kitchen, bathrooms, and all cabinetry in sight. Nothing. Clearly my husband had not had this problem in his single life (he’s not clumsy like me).
“Fine!” I huffed out loud. “I don’t have time to mess with this anymore… maybe Marc won’t notice when he comes home?”
I knew that wouldn’t work but I was done messing with the goo. And besides, I had bigger fish to fry--like laundry. I hate laundry so I trudged into the laundry room to grab the towel load screeching at me that it was ready to fold, which is the only aspect of laundry I semi-enjoy. Warm clean clothes in neat little piles make me happy.
With clean and warm folded towels in my arms, I made my way into the guest bathroom (yes, we have a guest bathroom and bedroom, so come visit us!) I tried flipping the light on, and nothing happened.
“Don’t panic. It’s probably just a light bulb or something,” I thought to myself as I walked to the next room and tried that switch, which also didn’t work. “Okay okay, the dryer and kitchen lights are still on soooo it’s just a fuse probably. Where the heck would the fuse box be…” I started searching the house with our dog, Bill Snyder (who didn’t help much other than look at me like a crazed woman as I talked to myself and searched the house). “AH! We found it Bill!” I threw the door open to find… all the switches exactly where they should be. I had somehow broken the house.
All within two hours of my first day alone as a wife I broke the counter and the entire house. Fantastic.
I didn’t know what to do, but I did know I wasn’t going to tell Marc. Why ruin his day, right? I’d tell him when he got home for lunch. Which wasn’t for another half hour and maybe the power would come on before then and…
I couldn't finish my poorly constructed thought because just then I heard the screen door bang shut and the sound of work boots hitting the linoleum. No time for the power to magically come on again now. Marc was home.
“Oh hi!” I nervously said as I peeked my head around the corner. “How are you?” (I was testing the waters to see how his day had gone so far).
“Oh, pretty good! How are you?” he asked as he took his boots and coat off.
Chipper. He sounds chipper. But one can’t be too careful when one breaks the house, so I held my tongue a bit longer. I’d lower the boom in a little bit.
I started making some lunch and waited for an opportunity to share my bad news as he sat down and chatted with me about his morning. He eventually asked me how everything had gone that morning and I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I had some bad news and some really bad news and so he should brace himself.
He suspiciously said “Okay… what’s up?” to which I released what I hoped would be an endearing version of the havoc I’d just wreaked on the house. I started with the glue. He kinda chuckled and immediately went into fix-it mode; got out some cleaner, and started scrubbing.
Whew. One down.
“So the really bad news is that… I think I broke the house!” I gushed.
“Uh, you broke the house?” he stopped scrubbing and looked at me like I’d grown another head.
“YES! And I don’t know how! I went into the guest bathroom to put away some towels and the light wouldn’t turn on…” (I went on and on about how I checked the other lights and tried the breaker box and blah blah blah. I won’t bore you with the details again).
Marc started smiling and said, “Let me show you a trick!” and I followed him as he headed to the back bathroom. “So sometimes, this little button that says “RESET” pops out and half the house loses power. Just push it back in and it’ll work again.”
(Don't I have a great husband? Fixing everything left and right.)
I was so overjoyed that I didn’t break the house, I jumped up and hugged his neck and gave him a big kiss. The house was saved! I could continue to be a good wife… maybe. At least I survived day one.
Who knows what day two will bring.
So in case anyone was wondering, I haven’t broken the house and Marc is still eating my lunches that I make for him. What a trooper! Here are some photos of my man and our cows.