Relationship Advice

It started with the entertainment center. My husband and I are in the middle of a home refreshment project. I stop short of calling it remodeling because we are not changing anything structurally. After thirty plus years in the same space, our home is in desperate need of a facelift. High priority at this stage is fresh paint and new flooring. Phase one and two.

My husband is an outstanding painter and actually enjoys the process. I, on the other hand, am horrific at painting and have no love for such tasks. Obviously, we are a match made in heaven and the painting was completed with no conflict. Phase one, in the books. Phase two, however, was another story. We are ripping out all the carpet in the main living areas and replacing it with vinyl plank. Again, my husband is very talented and is able to accomplish the task without guidance. My plan was to stay out of his way and offer assistance only when there was something I could actually do, such as moving things out of the way.

One of the larger items that had to be shifted was the dreaded entertainment center. It is a rather small one but the spaghetti of cords and equipment was logistically frightening. Neither of us is technologically talented so the thought of mixing up the machine tentacles made me shudder. I came up with a plan that made perfect sense to me, but as I explained it to my husband it became obvious that I was speaking in Mandarin. His eyes glazed over and he gave me his I'm-listening-but-I'm-really-not look. Finally, I gave up and we proceeded with his instructions. In the process, the entertainment center itself lost its integrity and needed future surgery, the brand new flooring received a small scratch and one cord seemed to have no home at all.

I didn't want to say I told you so, well, maybe I did, but it was time to move on. We replaced the vinyl plank that got scratched, found a home for the wayward cable and fixed the damaged entertainment center. All should have been well but it soon became evident that moving anything was fraught with friction. It is not my nature to be still and I couldn't seem to stop myself from being the fount of wisdom.

In reality, I know nothing about all things construction. My husband has been working in the industry since he took his first steps. He clearly knows what he is doing, most of the time. If our relationship has a chance of survival, I needed to learn the art of muteness when we are prepping space for the onward march of new flooring.

Obviously, this is next to impossible for me but I am giving myself a few gold stickers for at least curbing my incessant chatter and recommendations. We have somehow survived moving a piano, dining room set, living room furniture and a refrigerator, as well as numerous small items. Credit must also be given to my long-suffering spouse who is skilled at maneuvering through my prattling.

I have high hopes for surviving phase two of our projects. As I write this post, I am getting the word that the kitchen stove needs to be moved. In other words, time for me to don my muzzle and get the job done.