I decided that I needed to create some shelves for a little nook in our back hallway. Because I had built our entertainment center (for our new and fabulous TV) with my dad, I had some scrap wood sitting around and it was perfect for this project. A week ago, Gllen and I headed over to my parents house to for dinner and we cut the wood for these shelves. Now, my father is a perfectionist when it comes to woodworking. I'll say, "Hey, I need some crappy shelves and I don't care what they look like." By the end of the day we have perfectly square shelves, sanded and the edges have been embellished and rounded.
Of course, my dad wanted these shelves hung properly and insisted I take his air nail gun home with me.
Two nights ago, I was ready to hang the shelves. Gllen stood with his fists in his pockets, watching as I started unpacking the air pump, hose and nailer. "This looks dangerous." He says.
As I started to plug things in, he suddenly cries out, "I want nothing to do with this!" and he RAN AWAY! He high-tailed it to his office, put on his headphones and started to work with serious intent.
I eventually cajoled him back to make sure that I wasn't going to seriously injure myself, but after the first nail went in, he verified that I wasn't bleeding and took off back to the office.
I can't believe what a frightened little rabbit he is! Or perhaps, he isn't afraid of power tools at all - he's just scared of being sucked into a little bit of manual labor.
No comments:
Post a Comment