Kneeling before Him...



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Sunday, April 11, 2004

So yesterday while bed shopping, Mac decided that He needs a hammer drill. Fair enough. A man should own some power tools. Now I should at this moment point out that one of the first things that Mac did when W/we moved in here was buy Himself an electric hedge cutter for the orchard. I think He actually had it going for about 3 seconds before He managed to cut through the electric wire. That's ok. It can happen to anyone. He then thought He should fix it Himself. I mean how hard can it be? Right?

Now I am not quite sure how He managed this, but I do need to tell you what happened just so you all know what I am dealing with. He somehow managed to rewire it so that the safety switch is now the on switch and the on switch is the safety switch. He has nicknamed them Killer and can't wait to see what happens when someone asks to borrow them. (Yes, I do worry about Him.)

Now He needs a hammer drill. I shan't tell you why He needs a drill yet. I shall save that little gem for later in the post. First let's get to the buying of this drill. As a little girl I spent a lot of time in my dad's workshop. My dad had actually done three years of a four-year apprenticeship for carpentry before the guy he was working for went broke and my dad had to change careers. He never lost his love of working with wood and I spent many hours watching him. Because of this I know a little bit about power tools and I know how to use them, but they are not my most favourite thing in the world so I have never really bothered with them.

Mac on the other hand was always too busy playing with a rugby ball to be bothered with such tedious things as machinery. Mac's brother and father are quite capable of stripping down a car engine and putting it back together in a morning during which time Mac would still be wandering around trying to work out how to open the bonnet.

So I hoped that He would listen to my advice when choosing His new drill. I really did hope. W/we found the drills and while I started reading the specs of each drill, He started opening boxes. I did my best to ignore Him, reading off the things I thought were important. After He had been through most of the shelf He pulled out another one, held it up with something akin to love in His eyes and announced 'THIS ONE!' I looked at Him wondering why He would choose that one.

'Well,' He said, looking around at the other people in the aisle, 'this one looks the most like an AK47.' I am sure one or two of the men nodded. I looked at the ceiling and counted slowly to ten. I couldn't talk Him out of it. So now in His garden shed He has a pair of hedge cutters called Killer and a hammer drill that looks like an AK47. He thinks this is perfectly normal. (I REALLY worry about Him.)

As for why He suddenly needed a hammer drill, well, much to my horror and fear, Mac has decided that He wants to build a barbeque down near my orchard. Now I have never been able to talk Mac out of anything once He has made up His mind to do it, so I am resigned to the fact that He will try and build this barbeque. I love this Man, but quiet frankly the idea of Him building something that He will then set on fire down near my orchard scares the life out of me. It's not that I don't believe He can do it. I actually know that He can't. This is a man that has never built anything in His life. He doesn't believe in building things. He believes in paying people to build things. I have no clue why He has decided to do this. I think the fresh air is getting to Him.

Of course the bonus to this is that I get to sit in the garden all day and watch Him work with His hands, shirt off, sweating, dirty, mmmmmm. Still, I am not sure I am willing to pay with the orchard. I will let you all know how it goes.

Last night I threw a tantrum. Well as close to a tantrum as I have thrown in a long time. After W/we went shopping He went to the office to do some work He didn't get home until after midnight. I had taped a message to His desk telling Him that I wasn't coping real well and that I was trying to get it back under control.

I got out of bed when I heard Him moving around the study. He asked me what I was doing up. I just looked at Him. He asked what I wasn't coping with and I told Him that I knew that He has been busy, but I needed more time with Him. He said He doesn't have time and I said I knew that but it didn't change the way I felt, that I would get it back under control. He told me that I would. Then He told me to go to bed, that being tired was not going to help me pull myself together.

I said no. He just looked at me. I wanted to stand my ground but I chickened out and told Him that I wanted to kiss Him first, and then I would go to bed. He smiled at me and I kissed Him and He told me to get to bed. He said that things would hopefully get a bit better when the office is sorted out next week then He turned back to the laptop to get the work done and I stood in the doorway watching Him for a minute or so. I know He knew I was standing there. He wouldn't acknowledge me.

'You know,' I said, 'You have no idea how much I want to behave like a bad child and stay here just because it would be the wrong thing to do.'

I know I sounded like a petulant child, but I really did want to stand there just to piss Him off. He continued to ignore me and I went to bed. I hate it when He won't rise to the bait and at the same time I know that if He did acknowledge my tantrums they would get worse. Much worse.

I screamed into my pillow and punched the bed a few times before I snuggled down and went to sleep. Another week or two. I know I can make it without a major meltdown.

I know I can.

I hope.

(Pssst Happy Easter to the Christian readers.)

Posted by Sarah McBroden at 9:42 am

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