Six months ago I bought new curtains for our dining room. The cheap white sheers that are hanging there are too short and, thanks to Son, yogurt stained. Last weekend I asked Husband to hang the new curtains. After grousing, as usual, Husband went out to the garage to get some tools.
When he walked into the garage he commented that we’d had the last garage sale we’ll be having for awhile, so it was time to get it back in order (a socially acceptable translation to what was actually said).
He went through the shelves and moved things around so that they fit better and were more organized, and only threw a few things.
He got rid of empty boxes we’d been saving for moving, which doesn’t look like it’s happening soon. He told me at this rate we’d never move, and he was giving up all his dreams and accepting that we’re stuck here.
He spilled purple paint on the floor of the garage, cursed colorfully, and cleaned it up.
He organized his power tools, then started to straighten up his toolbox (one of those red Crafstsman boxes with the drawers and such). He decided he needed another toolbox. At my suggestion he went to Home Depot and got some pegboard (at $10 a much more frugal alternative).
He took out the power tools, cut the pegboard to the proper size, then hung the pegboard on the wall.
He built a table as a stand for the toolbox to provide more storage underneath for his power tools.
He lovingly organized his tool box and hung some tools on his new pegboard.
He re-organized his power tools again, storing some underneath his toolbox in the new space now provided for them.
He swept out the garage.
The garage looks great!
And can someone please tell me why a man would spend six hours organizing and straightening a garage, then throw the wax ring from a gallon of milk on the floor not two hours later?
My curtains? Still in the bag.