Let it Snow!

It look like I'm going to have to keep my husband. The bids were pitiful. I got one for $150 from a single woman in Texas. She sounded desperate and I'm not letting him go to some panting babe in the south. Then I got another bid for some seventy dollars and change, but that one wanted to know if he came with a car, a bed, and a salary. I nearly choked. What do you want him for? His money? The third bid was equally pitiful. Thirty-five cents. This from a woman in the northeast who probably needs a remodel but has no money. I am rejecting all bids and going back to zero.

I expected better. But first let me clear up some misunderstandings about this wonderful man.

First, he is NOT a contractor. He did not do any of this work himself. He's construction illiterate and he only uses licensed contractors to do all this work on our houses. Think of him as a general contractor who hires subs.

Why you ask? That's because he's more likely to break something than fix it. We learned that when he tried to fix the oven element and ended up burning out the thermostat. Must I go on?

Second, I don't HAVE to get rid of him. He's been a great husband and father. I was just trying to teach him a lesson. The remodels have to stop. But as I write, he has come up with yet another remodel idea.

"Let's do our bedroom next. We'll paint it and put molding around the window. White molding."

"More white molding?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's great stuff. Comes pre-painted. All you have to do is hammer it on and fill the nail holes."

"What if I don't want white?"

"You don't want white?" (Horror fills his face.) "What is WRONG with you?"

"It's the cleaning," I say. "If you put in white, I have to clean more than twice a year. You know how I hate to clean."

I do hate to clean. It's against my religion. First off, it's such a regular thing. I mean you do it one week and then you have to repeat it the next. After twenty years of cleaning my house, I've had it.

That's why I got a full time job. Who could expect me to clean if I work? Or cook? That's the best part about working. Now the after work conversation goes like this:

"What's for dinner, honey?"

"Good question. What you going to cook, Babe?"

Me? Cook? I worked all day. I had customer problems. I commuted in horrible traffic. It's not the man's job to cook. It's our job to bring home the bacon."

"Ok, call Dominos. They deliver."

This was part of the reason I wanted to get rid of him. He expects me to cook and clean. The next thing, he'll expect me to do his laundry. What kind of marriage is this?

And so, the battle for survival goes on. I may rethink the auctioning of my husband. Maybe I'll lower the price. Or maybe if he insists on putting in that white molding, I'll just give him away.