I can’t stop calling my husband an idiot

I can’t stop calling my husband an idiot

Renovations on my house started this weekend. We’re three days into it and already I want to blow my head off.

We’re building an addition off of our kitchen which will (someday, please, someday soon!) be an enclosed porch. And after that project is done, we’re expanding our deck to wrap around that porch and then installing an above ground pool off of that deck. But all of that means rearranging pretty much everything in our yard (pond, play set, dog’s area, patio) and finding new places for them. And after all that is done, we’re upgrading our kitchen.

I don’t know if we’ll get as far as the kitchen, though. It all depends on the pending suicide thing.

Word of advice: if you don’t like a messy house, a chaotic house, or thoughts about killing yourself, DO NOT RENOVATE!

Word of advice (squared): If you decide to renovate anyway, don’t ALSO ponder the idea of getting a mini-van. It really will push you right over the edge.

The following conversations went on this house this weekend:

Me: When will I be able to walk naked through my kitchen again without creepy contractors around?

Ty: What?! Since when are you walking around the kitchen naked? And why is this only happening when I’m not home?

Me: I’m just saying, I want to be able to walk around my kitchen naked if I want to and I can’t.

Ty: Well, once these guys are out of here, I think it should be a mandatory rule that all time spent in the kitchen should be spent naked.

Me: You’re an idiot.

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Ty: After the kitchen remodel is done, what do you say we extend the garage?

Me: IDIOT!

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Me: We really need a new vehicle.

Ty: A 1959 red convertible Cadillac, perhaps?

Me: Ummmm, no. I was thinking more along the lines of a [gulp] mini-van.

Ty: Wow, you really are losing your mind.

Me: Yes, but that’s beside the point. The fact is, we have 4 kids and only enough room for 3 of them in the back. We need more seating.

Ty: Ehhhh, so we’ll strap one to the roof.

Me: It’ll be like Darwin’s theory of Inadequate Passenger Seating: Only the strongest get to breed.

Ty: Excuse me, but my children will not be breeding even if they can hang onto the ski racks while I’m doing 80. No breeding at all. Except for the boy, he can breed up and down the east coast for all I care.

Me: Apparently you’re an exception to the theory of the BRIGHTEST ones get to breed.
———————

Ty: [Breathe]

Me: Idiot!

———————

Ty: [Blink}

Me: IDIOT!!!!