Home improvement Project Gone Bad
Honey, I think the ceiling is caving in! I rolled my eyes at my husband Blake while we were pummeled with large raindrops watching our brand new television set. I should have seen it coming weeks ago when I walked into our home.
It must have been that gleaming look in his eyes that made me hesitate for an instant. There was suddenly a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach as he dragged me away. My husband grasped my hand and said, ‘Follow me”. I had barely managed to put my shopping bags on the kitchen counter when he led me to his new remodeling project. I quickly visualized the timeline in my head that this man had used to complete what was supposed to be a second living room. There is absolutely no way he could have finished in just two days. It was supposed to be a simple addition that would enlarge an existing room.
I am still not sure why we needed a second one, since we managed to get along fine with just one like most families. It obviously wasn’t enough for him. This was a person who goes around looking for things to fix, according to him. In reality, he has destroyed more things than he has actually fixed. Although, I give him points for trying. He is a burst of energy and excitement at the beginning of a home improvement project and then completely loses interest in the middle of it. This explains the lack of hot water in the bathroom at the current moment. Yep, you guessed it. It is another one of his works in progress. This latest remodeling event was supposed to be a state of the art theatre room. It was to be a place where we could have guests over to watch movies until the wee hours of the morning. I envisioned beautiful honey crème plush carpeting and spectacular lighting additions that would highlight an artistic theme. We hadn’t discussed a color, so I figured he would choose something that would complement the entire house. Instead, I opened my eyes on that cold September day and my jaw fell open. I gritted my teeth while trying to look for the positive. The room had four walls. Ok, so that was a start. Our old sofa had been relocated to this cold room and our television stood proudly in the center. In the corner was a lamp, which I think was hiding because there was hardly any light coming off of it. There wasn’t any floor, just hard cold cement. The walls weren’t even painted. Am I missing something to this story? No, that was all that was present in the room. It was definitely not a place to gather friends or relatives. It was a sight for sheer mortification. Scott gazed proudly at his new creation. Didn’t he realize that this was an unfinished room? I knew he overlooked details now and then but this was ridiculous. He really thought that once he moved the furniture in, the deal was done. I just smiled at him and said, “Nice job.”
I knew from the past that there were no words that I could have said that could have convinced him that this job needed tons more work. We have plenty of unpainted rooms without floor to prove it. I decided to go with a wait and see approach.
So, now we sit seven weeks later, amidst a pile of broken sheetrock and itchy pink insulation. He announces to me that the “theatre room” ceiling is leaking. He assured me that sooner or later he would get to it. Well, I am still waiting on him. I have now put crime scene tape across the entrance way so that no one crosses into this disaster zone. This room is now a health hazard because the ceiling has been overtaken by black and gray mold. The sheetrock is broken down to the point where you can see the roof through the boards. I am afraid to step in there for fear that I might get knocked down by one of those sheetrock boards. I could have sworn I heard bats in the rafters. After much pleading from me, that the television and the sofa were going to lose their lives in that room, they were moved. We are still dealing with the sudden sounds at night when a piece of the roof falls in and we are startled awake. My husband is the first to rush over with his tool belt to pull the fallen sheetrock board out. But that is all he does with that tool belt. He is not eager to finish the job or to repair the room. He just says nature will take its course-whatever that means. Maybe he believes that the home improvement fairies will come and repair it for him. As for me, I am busy going through the yellow pages looking for a handy man.