Having boys means you need to be handy and fix things. Having three boys means you need to have a good handyman, like Al Borland.
Having MY three boys means I need to have a handyman on retainer, a back-up handyman, and a service contract covering all my appliances and my water heater. Think “the entire This Old House” team.
Even those were not enough to fix every broken thing around here today.
My new handyman, Dusty, is my housekeeper’s husband. He works diligently when he’s here. Last week he didn’t show up because he was sick. There were a bunch of things I needed to have done, and I couldn’t wait. I called the back-up handyman and scheduled him to come today. This morning, the back-up guy, Rusty, showed up around 9:30 a.m. He replaced the filler valve in the master bedroom toilet, caulked WineGuy’s sink, tried to tighten a faucet, and replaced screws in the hinges of an 8-foot door. Rusty was not able to drill a hole (grommet) to put electrical cords through my vanity counter, nor was he able to tighten the faucet in my sink. I showed him the big problem in the playroom – sliding glass door leaked and damaged drywall and wood floor – and we scheduled the work for after Thanksgiving. As Rusty was leaving, the appliance repairman drove up. He was here to check the water heater, which decided to slow down delivery of hot water to the master bathroom. The repairman also was not able to fix the problem; he told me to call the plumber to re-pressurize the tank which increases pressure to the master bathroom. Now, I have to schedule another serviceperson to fix that.
Of course, as I was showing Rusty the various other small jobs, I noticed that yet another solid brass doorstop was missing from the wall. My kids are impossible: if they don’t swipe the rubber caps and chew on them, they rip the doorstops out of the wall. Then I took a really good look around and realized that we’ll need to paint the interior and the exterior of this house soon. WineGuy will not be amused.
Welcome to The Broken Zone.