My husband is a great many things and there are many things that he is great at. I mean, he coached my son’s Bad News Bears-ish baseball team to a 14-0 championship win over the best team in the league this weekend.

So, while he is qualified to do many important and helpful things, he is exactly none of the following: plumber, handyman, carpenter, builder.

Nope. Not a one.

I mean, he tries and he means well and I like to indulge his dreams and I even allowed him to ask my grandfather to will him his plumbing snake, but, I mean, there was that time that we lost an entire day when he decided to change the screen in the screen door instead of making the wiser decision to a) call someone who is good at changing screens out of screen doors or b) replacing the damn door. And now we have a screen door that is a bit of a health hazard and an eye sore.

So, no. Not meant for manual labor and that’s totally okay with me.

AND YET.

Somehow I found him going out and renting scaffolding to replace the four lightbulbs in our over-20 foot ceilings.

Can you guess how this one ends?

Well, I will give you a hint: MY LIGHTS ARE STILL OUT.

But, my husband and his friends had a grand old time building the scaffolding, rendering my staircase useless, and risking their lives and limbs in their attempts to climb up there to reach the lights.

Everyone is still alive, though, so that’s a nice silver lining.

Me: So, uh, we’re going to call someone then?

Him: *Deep Sigh* Yeah, I guess.

Me: Like I had suggested before the whole scaffolding situation?

Him: *Deeper Sigh* Yes. Like that.

Beat.

I was also thinking we should get a new screen door.