A few weeks ago we found ourselves in a situation that required our urgent attention. The floorboards by the sink in the kitchen broke leaving a rather large hole. The hole meant that if you were particularly tall you could wash the dishes comfortably. However, I am not tall, in fact I am, according to my husband, a short ass.
As a result we have been replacing floorboards, refitting units, replacing worktops and effectively overhauling the whole kitchen for the past seven days. Now I say “we” but in reality this task has fallen on my husband’s shoulders. My role has been trying to organise the ensuing chaos and homeschooling the children.
I have helped. I helped to empty the contents of the kitchen at the start, including appliances. Admittedly, my assistance has resulted in my husband suffering some minor injuries.
We have a gas cooker with an oven and separate grill. The grill has a pull down door and as I am sure you all know big appliances are awkward to move. Square edges are not the easiest to grip. So as we are getting in to position to lift the cooker my husband, unbeknown to me, had placed his hands inside the grill to enable him to lift his end. I, on the other hand decided that the best thing to grab would be the handle on the front of the grill to lift it up.
So there we are, leaning the oven forward to grab the base and suddenly my husband is shouting at me “put it down…put it down…put it down!” I couldn’t understand this request and assumed that he was shouting because the cooker had ended up on his foot somehow so the more he is shouting, the more I am trying to lift the cooker so he can free his foot…he did not tell me that his fingers were hurting until after much swearing on his part I did as instructed. As soon as we put the cooker down, he pulled his hand out of the grill and proceeded to shake his fingers vigorously saying “my bloody hand was in the grill!”
Now I have a strange sense of humour but this was something different. The vision of my husband, red as a beetroot jumping around the kitchen, veins popping out of his head as he is calling me all the names under the sun, was too much!! I was on the floor, tears streaming down my face, laughing so much my legs would not work. He didn’t help with calming me down as he proceeded to do his feeble impression of me cackling whilst waiting for me to compose myself to assist with moving the cooker. It took half an hour or so but I managed to pull myself together and complete the task in hand.
Even the memory of this encounter has me laughing.
Anyway, thanks to the help of my in-laws we are now at a stage that all that remains to be done is putting the appliances back into position, repaint and retile. He is a clever man…he is an engineer you know.
Puppy had to be a house guest with Nanna for a few days purely because there were a couple of days where we were having to negotiate joists to get in and out of the house. I think this was the children’s favourite part of the whole process. They enjoyed challenging themselves balancing and walking over the gaps. I was not particularly keen, I had some awful images running through my head, none of which had good outcomes. Thankfully, these fears were unfounded.
Nanna has also been acting as a catering service for us for the past week which I am immensely grateful for. I know its an extreme action to take but I was so bored of cooking everyday it has been a nice change to not have the option to cook.
Homeschooling during this has been interesting. There has been a lot of banging, thinking and swearing over the past week or so. Today, in particular was entertaining, The new flooring was laid today, We bought one of those vinyl sheets from B&Q. My husband loves laying floor coverings…not! There was lots of swearing today, followed by the children and I smuggling our giggles
“Daddy is really getting angry with that plastic stuff Mummy”
“I know darling, but if your quiet and keep listening you will hear him start growling like a bear in a minute”
“Really?!”
“Yes…shhh…listen…can you hear it? The rumble is slowly growing and he is going to shout agaaaaiiiinn…NOW!” followed by a perfectly timed “ARRRRGHHHHHH” from the kitchen.
Once the flooring was laid, it was time to reattach the skirting boards. More swearing ensued. This time it didn’t disturb us as much, although I cannot say the same for the neighbours. A couple of hours later I ventured in to the garden and found a sheepish looking man stood looking at a broken tool. I had not realised it was broken until he pointed at it like a petulant three year old and said “broken”. I don’t know what happened next but it must have triggered my mum instinct as I raised an eyebrow and shot back with “and you want a new one now all because you broke it whilst you were having a paddy”. More laughing and giggling followed and broke the tension.
I had better say cheerio for now. There are some appliances that need shifting and as I am the only option to ask I had best get ready. That is after I have stripped the boys bed who apparently has sweaty feet and cannot get to sleep unless his sheets are changed. Oh isn’t it a glorious life we lead.
Mumma Bear Roars 