The Darwin Exception

because it's not always survival of the fittest – sometimes the idiots get through

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Don’t Try This at Home!

Posted by thedarwinexception on November 14, 2006

What the hell is wrong with my husband??

Is this a man thing, or did I just draw the short straw in the “choosing a mate” department? He’s a fucking retard, I swear to God.

Number 1: He can’t do anything for himself. I’m trying to teach him how to run the microwave oven. Now how fucking hard is pushing a big ass button that says right on the sonofabitch “START”? This isn’t brain surgery, here, it’s not like I’m asking the fucker to make me Chicken Cordon Bleau from scratch. Push a fucking button that says START right on it!! He can’t do it. Not without yelling up the stairs three times “What do I do now?” He’s a moron. Plain and simple.

We already had the whole “Pizza Fiasco”, wherein he tried to make a frozen pizza for himself while I was visiting at my brothers. He called me all depressed with the crushing news that the oven was broken. I was having a panic attack “The oven is broken?? What do you mean?? Why is it broken?” He replied “Oh, because I’ve had the pizza in the oven for like 2 hours, and it’s not even hot yet.” OK, this doesn’t necessarily mean a malfunction on the part of the oven – we have to objectively look at who’s running the oven, right? So I asked him “What temperature did you turn the oven to?” He says “Like 100”. 100. OK, now, one has to wonder, does the dial even go down that low? I don’t think I’ve ever had the oven on 100 degrees. So I told him, “No, Paul, you have to put it on like 350 – or 400. He says, incredulously “DEGREES?” Yeah, degrees. See, his reasoning was that if you put the toaster on like “7” to cook toast, surely 100 would be the perfect setting to cook a pizza.

I don’t know how much of this is just simple lazy assing. You know, if you know how to do something, you may be expected to do it, so he plays ignorant. I can’t imagine it’s *that* difficult to run a fucking microwave. I’m thinking lazy assing is coming in to play here. And although he can’t run a washing machine or a microwave or an oven or a coffee maker – he’s really good at lazy
assing.

See this picture here on the right? This is Paul taking the day off of work to finish stacking the wood in the backyard before winter sets in. Looks like that wood is really getting stacked,
doesn’t it? Looks like we are going to have some warm asses in here come winter, don’t it?

Number 2: He “takes his time” doing anything. And even though he buys all the expensive tools, all the materials he will need and sits and thinks about shit for months and months, he never finishes anything. Is this common? Is this another “man thing” my mother never warned me about? Do all men buy all this shit only to have it hang around and hang around without actually installing it or fixing it or hanging it or FINISHING anything? Or actually *using* any of those
expensive tools that they just have to have because they can’t finish anything without them? What the fuck? Paul has more “unfinished projects” than I can count. And we have all the stuff to complete everything, it’s just that he gets so damned distracted by the smallest of things. No focus, that man, no focus. It’s like he has the best of intentions, and he really *wants* to finish something, but just can’t quite get there.

Let’s take, as an example, putting up the shelf in the kitchen. The shelf I have had for about 4 months and which was supposed to be put up the day I got it. It’s been sitting on the bench in the kitchen since that time. I actually dusted it the other day, and mentioned again it would be nice to have it up. Paul promised that on Sunday he would hang it. So Sunday comes, and Paul says that “Today’s the day!” He’s going to hang the shelf in the kitchen. Woo Hoo!

First,  he has to get the tools out – then he has to plug in the electric screwdriver, making it look, of course, like a very time consuming and technical operation – because he has to get out the heavy duty orange extension cord and wrap it around his arm a few times all professional like, just so that I know he knows what he’s doing and this this isn’t a job for just “anyone” 
– then he went and took a nap.

Then, after the nap, he got up, actually went into the kitchen where the shelf was to go, and had to measure the shelf and measure the wall. Again, all professional like with a special carpenter’s pencil (which he had to look for – then sharpen with a switchblade knife, another time consuming and technical operation), and with a T-Square, because he bought one just for such occasions. Then he answered the phone – and had to talk for a while to his buddy “Because
he’s calling from Florida” I don’t quite know what that had to fucking do with anything, but Paul said it with great reverence. And it’s not like the guy doesn’t call three times a week, anyway, but, you know….So then Paul gets off the phone and takes the little screws that came with the shelf out of the package – and checks to see if the screwdriver is charged. Which led to coming
upstairs, flipping through 3 or 4 channels to check on the progress of the football games, announcing that he had to watch just a few plays of this one, and then he fell asleep.

Once he woke up again, he went back downstairs, to, I don’t know, see if the fucking good fairies had come and hung the shelf, and when he realized that hadn’t happened, he stopped to make a couple of sandwiches. Luckily, he didn’t have to use the fucking microwave, because it still has that scary ass big button called “START” that he just can’t seem to figure the fuck out.

So, he comes upstairs to eat his sandwiches, and I ask all innocently like “OH! Is the shelf hung?” He says “no, but I’m almost done!” Like he’s actually fucking gotten any closer to really doing anything. So, he eats his sandwiches and promptly falls asleep.

So while he’s in the middle of his third nap of the day, I go downstairs and take a look at the shelf, decide since the marks are already on the wall “well, this can’t be all that fucking difficult”, I get out a butter knife, screw the little screws into the wall, and hang the shelf.

Paul finally wakes up, walks downstairs, sees that the shelf is hung and says “What did you do? I was going to finish that!” Then he tells me how screwing the screws in with a butter knife isn’t good enough, and that the shelf is going to fall any minute. But he doesn’t mess with it, just packs up his tools, unplugs the screwdriver, wraps the heavy duty extension cord around his arm a few times, puts all the tools away, and makes another sandwich.

Any day now he’s going to fix the kitchen sink. Any fucking day.

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6 Responses to “Don’t Try This at Home!”

  1. I love these stories. Fortunately, my wife knew I was no handyman from day one, but that doesn’t get me out of having to try from time to time.

    I’m laughing at your take, but I’m secretly in league with Paul.

  2. aloony said

    “This is Paul taking the day off of work to finish stacking the wood in the backyard before winter sets in. Looks like that wood is really getting stacked, doesn’t it?”

    Sawing the logs?

  3. ¡Que Barbara! said

    Very funny; the part about the “heavy duty orange extension cord” especially tickled me, that is *so* my husband. The only time he finishes projects is when my family comes to visit, luckily my dad is coming down for Thanksgiving so I’m finally getting shoe mold put in the rooms that we had wood flooring installed last April. It only works for my family though, when his family comes in he doesn’t even want to bother changing sheets on the guest bed.

  4. darkon said

    I cracked up at “I actually dusted it the other day”.

  5. gledsinger said

    You need to pay a pro! But you have some very funny stories here. You could do the Improv comedy route and pay a professional like me!

  6. Do you do plumbing? If so – you’re hired.

    Kim

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