I've come to the realization that some of us (and by that I mean me) were not meant to be homeowners. In my defense I am a viciously loyal husband, I can make a pretty righteous lasagne, and there are only a few people in the world who can rig up home electronic equipment like I can, but other than that I'm an utter failure as a husband. Sure I can get things done when the job calls for stupid brute strength, such as shoveling snow or carrying stuff, but when skill is called for I wilt like the basil I tried to grow last week.
Were it not for the intervention of friends and family our home would have surely fallen down right around us by now. I can't fix the toilet, I cant fix the vent cover and god help all of us if I tried to fix my oven. I hate the way I feel when I have to own up to the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing around the house, and I hate that I have to constantly ask friends for help. The worst part is that I can usually ply people with a baked ziti or some of my aforementioned lasagne to get them to help, or provide them with the cheesy eats to thank them for their help. Now with the oven on the fritz and looking like it would cost about as much as a new one to fix, I can't even do that. Fuck! Oh well, at least I still make a great tomato, basil and moz salad, like all good husbands should.