I married my husband for many reasons. He is hilarious, he is kind, he likes dogs, he likes my family, he puts up with me, he likes my friends, he puts up with me, he is an amazing friend to his friends, he puts up with me.
I did not marry him for his handyman skills.
Recently, we decided we were short on cabinet storage in our kitchen, so we had the cabinet maker who originally built our kitchen, make one additional pantry cabinet for us. They installed the new, lovely, enormous cabinet last week to my great joy. Who knew a person could be so happy about a cabinet!?
Yesterday, my amazing mom picked up the knobs for the new cabinet, and dropped them off so we could install them. Jeremy arrived home from work and decided to install the knobs.
I was shocked, as he is not usually one to initiate fixing, installing or repairing anything, but I was not about to complain.
As I made dinner, he boasted, "I'm feeling pretty handy right now, ya know, installing these knobs. It's pretty easy."
"Great!" I replied, "When you're done, can you hang that picture in the corner?"
5 minutes pass and he is busy working on the knobs while I cook.
I turn over to look at him and find the following...