A six %$@*#! job

For the entire span of our marriage, Mr. Gadget has always bumbled through, I mean taken on, projects around the house. This goes a long ways to explaining why he has so many gadgets. Each project, apparently, calls for different gadgets and often requires a trip to that big home store down the road.

At some point I stopped measuring his projects by the length of time to completion, and began keeping track of the number of times he yells %$@*#! I remember years ago when he hung a new light over our kitchen table. That was a two %$@*#! job. Then there was the five-er when he installed a closet organizer in my Treehouse. I'll never forget the time he put a new sidewalk along the front of our house. I lost count.

Recently we decided to sign up for one of those movies-by-mail services. Yeah, that's the one. Very soon afterward, Mr. G mentioned that he'd had a brain f@&! "What do you think of getting a flat screen TV for the loft?" he asked, with one of his done-deal expressions I've come to recognize so well.

Today the work began. "Would you mind getting just a few things out of your craft closet so I can run a cable?" he politely asked.

He assembled his gadgets on the floor where he could get to them easily.

Except his wrench was in the basement....two floors down. After returning with the wrench, he was ready to measure. Yep, his tape measure was in the basement too. Several %$@*#!

The dolls, usually bored silly sitting on the bed in the guest room, were having a wonderful time watching his antics.

He carefully measured and then slowly drilled the holes, avoiding studs and whatever else the construction guys put inside our walls. "I can see light through the hole!" he exclaimed. "So, why won't the cable go through!?" %$@*#!

I counted six. There may have been more. I probably should have gotten out of the house. Maybe I should have just gone to the movies.