Dec. 17, 2006
Cabinet Woes.
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So having a cabinet builder for a hubby isn't all sunshine and roses. For instance, I've been in this house for about 9 years now and I have yet to see a single new cabinet. (My beloved Hunny has done TONS of great wonderful stuff to our house...AMAZING stuff, but shhh..that just doesn't fit the tone of the story.)
This morning, my Hunny and I were discussing one little cabinet that we want to add to our kitchen. Now, with a regular cabinet maker, they come to your house, you tell them what you'd like them to do, they do it, you pay them, everybody's happy. When your own sweet Hunny is the cabinet maker, however, he's bound to have some crazy opinions. Never mind that he never cooks in the kitchen, or even really looks at it or has a clue where anything belongs in it. As a cabinet maker, who is freakishly good at what he does, it is very important to him that it looks a certain way. He wants to ensure that the flow is proper, that the style is impressive, that all the lines are...well, I don't know how the lines are supposed to be because according to our conversation this morning, I'd missed his whole point. All I know is that, "If function were the most important thing in a kitchen, all you'd need would be some cardboard boxes and leftover plywood." Which, of course, I'd be fine with if it meant that I didn't have to have the silly cabinet he had in mind! hahaha
Now, our conversation didn't get nasty, we were extremely civil and trying very hard to see the other person's point of view even though we were both firmly convinced that the other person was more than slightly off their rocker. I may have been a little less than gracious in the voice I assigned him when narrating his side of the conversation as I discussed it with my neighbor this morning, however.
But, when I got back home from church this afternoon, I had a sparkling clean kitchen...washed floors and everything...and hot lunch ready on the stove.
Now, if you've read one of my previous posts, you'll see that a clean kitchen was what I got the last time we almost got in a snooty little tiff. Therefore, the moral of the story must be...be a difficult wife...get a clean kitchen.
Okay okay, that's not the moral of the story. I don't know what the moral of the story is, but I sure do adore that boy of mine...even if he is a cabinet maker. |
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