Break Stuff

Over the weekend, my husband and I were hanging out with some good friends of ours. We were talking about our plans for our homes. When it got to some rather pointed hinting from the wife to the husband that she wanted him to fix the shed, he listened but something was amiss.

There was no terror in his eyes. No sense of urgency to fix the shed door. I paused and waited for that glimmer of panic before he set off to fix the door, but it didn’t come.

As the wife and I continued to discuss the door, it occurred to me that not everyone deals with their problems head on. I asked her if she’d like for me to expedite the process, and she seemed confused but agreed.

So, there I was with a sledgehammer, and later a fireman’s axe, breaking down the shed door.

My husband cheered (from afar) while the wife watched, and something interesting happened… The husband began nervously rearranging the patio per his wife’s wishes. The next day, the husband sent a picture of the newly framed shed door. Happy wife, happy life!

Nothing gets the blood pressure pumping quite like a small, angry woman with tools.