Power tools and other firsts

We live in an old house, the kind people buy cheap and run down and fix up and live in.  Only we didn't fix it up.  Because we don't really do that sort of thing.

When we got married, my husband needed me to come sit with him for moral support for a half an hour while he did a minor toilet repair.  He is a computer guy, not a handy guy, by nature.  A shame, since his dad fixed things for a living, but it just didn't pass on.  Nineteen years later, he is able to do lots of things that have to be done, but is still not the guy other people call when something isn't working.  Unless it's their computer.

He does paint, though.  I don't.  At least, I haven't.  Haven't been allowed to.  Because if he is a less handy person, I'm pretty much inept.  The whole fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants way of living works okay with music and cooking, but not with mechanical things, not with a knowledge base of absolute zero.

But he has these seasons at work that we call busy, and by that we mean, crazy, completely focused, AWOL from life and home.  And I'm simultaneously in this season called nesting, which is a completely illogical thing that happens to pregnant women when they have the least amount of patience and energy but feel they must get their life ready for the coming child, who couldn't give a rat's backside what color the laundry room is painted.

So this week, I, the amazing supermom, painted.  I painted a small bathroom green.  It was only horrible and not a complete disaster.  Then, not satisfied, I also did a crappy job painting my sons' new bedroom.  It was not remotely as tragic as it might have been.  But (and this is the really exciting part) that was not enough for this completely unhandy chick.  I purchased and put together some shelves and (drumroll please) I hung a shelf/hanger rack. 

Perhaps you don't fully realize the wonder of that statement.  Let me 'splain.  No, it would take too long.  Let me sum up.  I put 7 holes in the wall.  WITH A DRILL.  That's right, me, Susie Homemaker.  I used a power tool.  Uh-huh, uh-huh.  And a level.  Not that it is level.  It's not.  But it'll do.  It will hold up shirts.  I picked up a power drill and made a shelf happen.  Kinda like magic, cept it's real.

I kept thinking about Bill Murray in What About Bob - did you see me?  I drill.  It wasn't that hard.  I just let the drill do the work.  I drilled.  It was my first time.  I think I just might be ready to drive a skidloader next.