When I was younger I worked in many trades. So it's simpler for me to remodel my kitchen, put in a new bathroom, rebuild the roof on the back porch, install new hotwater heaters, run wiring and plumbing, all those things I did in the trades. But you don't make alot of money, so now I work for a Bank.
But what gets my goat is I may start hiring a professional helper instead of my O'l lady if she gives me one more bellybutton chewing because I didn't say please or ask her real nice to pass me the hammer.
Or instead of just supporting the end of the peice of wood I'm sawing, shes guiding the wood for me under the skillsaw right over my fingers from here better vantage point 6 feet away. Then when I yell at her she gets pissed because I yelled. No matter that I nearly lost my fingers.
Then there's the arguments over how much fun I'm having being the carpenter getting to be creative and doing the design and doing the real building while she's stuck fetching, holding, carrying, being TOLD to hand me something and the cleanup. And then the pissing match responce when I ask her if she knows how to do any of the parts that make up a full remodeling job in our kitchen. Because I care about her I'm supposed to support her while she learns to do them with $5k of new cabinets, a few thousands in trim and other materials.
I let her do the floor plan for the cabinets and order them. She has an art degree from North Eastern U and beleives she has a great sense of design. She didn't tell me she readjusted the floor plan at the store to try and make the sink line up with a window. This was behind my back after I spent an hour showing her why it wouldn't. You know that experience gained by actually having worked in the trades.
Four months later when I'm installing the cabinets I discover I have a 9 inch gap where I had worked out the floor plan not to have one. It took me 7 days to remanufacture the base cabinets to fit my original layout and the O'l lady now goes "wow until I actually saw them in place it looked like I could make the sink line up with the window.
Honey I guess you were right after all."
Oh and I let her use the nail gun while I was holding up bead board paneling. She pulls the trigger and goes wow this fun. Suddenly she picks up speed, pow,pow,pow,pow,pow and places it on my hand, and 30 seconds later its all my fault for yelling at her..................Or when she got mad I wasen't letting her do the demolition on the back proch roof with me. I had her hauling the debree to the truck..cleenup....so I hand her the wreking bar and hammer.....she drops a rafter on my head....and it was all my falt because I yelled at her when I could see straight again.
Anything else my O'l lady rocks the world. I just can't take it being all my fault anymore, so I think I'll hire a contractor helper next time....