C vacuumed the screened-in porch last month. The ceiling had a lot of spiders and he got most of them. He did NOTÂ get the two years of pollen and dust and spider debris that was on the walls and floor. I mean, seriously?!?!?!
Let me interject here that I’ve been suffering with asthma and respiratory problems for quite a while now. I cannot stand the dust/pollen or I would have had this cleaned up.
He bought a window kit for the front window, which is a big picture window installed when the house was built in 1960, and he cleaned the window. This window looks out onto the porch and the lake. He did a good job on it. The kit he bought was 5 feet wide. Our window is almost 7 feet wide. Seriously? This guy used to work as a carpenter with his dad. He’s an engineer now. How do you not know better?
Well, C got another kit. We installed it today. I cleaned the window sill with alcohol and applied the tape. C tried to put just the very edge of the plastic on the tape. “No,” I said, “you need to leave some overhang.” Sure enough, we had to take it loose and rehang it. Several times. He kept getting bit pleats in it which I know from experience and reading directions will come loose and let in air and spiders/bugs.
We finally got it hung pretty well and I asked him to cut the excess off “not too close. Leave me some overhang.” So he cuts it right next to the tape. Does he not listen, do it to spite me, or just think he knows better? I am a woman after all. I don’t know anything, RIGHT?! After I started using the dryer on it to shrink it and take out the wrinkles the bottom came loose from the tape and wouldn’t reach it any more. And I hadn’t even done half of it.
I was cursing in my raspy asthma, sinus and laryngeal infection voice and wondering why I need a *#**## man.
When I calmed down enough, (did I say I’m a redhead?) I went to get him to help. I was covered with dusty cobwebs and coughing. “C, I need your help.”
“What?”
“I need the tape.”
“What tape?” Seriously?
“The tape we used on the window.”
“Why?” He makes me talk. Why does he make me talk?
“Where’s the %$$# tape?”
After more of this exchange I finally convince him to get the tape. My thinking was that since the bottom of the window frame slopes we could put the tape on the upper part and maybe make it reach. It didn’t. (Insert another cuss fit)
C has a fairly good idea. “I’ll get some good tape tomorrow and fix it.”
“What kind of tape?” I ask. I have all kinds of tape. He knows this.
“Some good tape.” This goes on a couple of more times. My asthma is getting worse.
I say, “I have lots of tape. What do you need? Double sided? Wide? Duct?”
“Just one sided. Wide would be good.”
I get him the clear mailing tape. C complains that it isn’t a new roll and that it may be about gone. It’s a fairly new roll of tape and a brand name. It’s good. I have to start it for him after he picks at the edge and fringes it nicely. I fold the end under and hand it to him. He goes to the window and begins to pull off copious amounts and add them to the bottom of the plastic.
C enters from the porch and smilingly announces, “It’s not pretty, but I think I fixed it.” He goes back to the porch. I go out. He’s taking my hair dryer away. He has it unplugged and is rolling up the extension cord.
“Leave that!”
“Why?” C holds the dryer closer to his body.
“I need it. I’m not done.”
“With what?” He is not putting it back.
“Just plug the $#(% thing back in and leave it!”
I get the rest of the wrinkles out, go straight to the shower and wash off, dry and put on fresh clothes. I use my inhaler.
C comes to the living room and says, “Boy, I don’t think that thing’s ever looked that good.” Referring to the window, not me, thank goodness. I cough. And cough some more.
Ain’t life grand?
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