Michael has completely dedicated his entire life, and also the use of both of his lungs, to making our apartment beautiful. What do I contribute, you wonder? I do laundry and surf the web and complain about sawdust and eat the meals Mike prepares. Ours is an equal partnership.
Most recently Mike got a bug up his ass to repair the door sills. Which are not called lintels, after all, like we thought they were. They're called sills. (Did you know there were door sills in addition to window sills? I didn't.) Our door sills are wooden, but they had been painted a sickly grey and then, because they weren't ugly enough, someone screwed horrible metal strips into them. (And this is totally off-topic, but you know what? Yesterday I pronounced "horrible" like "harrible". I think I've been in New York a while now.)
Sickly grey with harrable metal strips.
I hate to admit this, but I never even noticed the door sills until Mike pointed them out to me. I didn't really think much about them even after he pointed them out because I was thinking about all the gorgeous sunlight pouring through the many windows. And also how wonderful our bathroom sink is. And how little furniture we own. But Mike just couldn't stand the sills. Not when he knew there was wood! Glorious wood! underneath all that awful paint. It was keeping him up at night.
So my darling, wonderful, brilliant husband who has reactive airway disease, spent the next two days stripping and sanding, polishing and staining, applying urethane then sanding then applying urethane once more, to our five wooden door sills. All while NOT wearing a mask. Because masks are expensive! he argued. Is a t-shirt wrapped around your face expensive? I'm just saying.
Kitchen door sill, stripped and sanded, waiting for stain.
As a result, for the past three days Michael has come home from summer school and collapsed into bed wheezing and snarfling and coughing. And he stays there, curled in a painful sounding lump, until his alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m. the next morning. I was starting to get really worried, but this morning he swore up and down that he feels better. Something about massive amounts of eucalyptus tea he's been sucking down. I wondered why our bedroom smelled like a steam room.
And as I left for work this afternoon, leaning over to kiss his forehead, listening to him hack and squawk, I had to admit, those door sills? They are gorgeous.
Admit it. You're blinded by the sheer gorgeousness, aren't you?
7 comments:
I am blinded by the sheer gorgeousness!!!
Poor Mike, I hope he gets better soon :(. He really did a good job, though! What a difference.
Btw, thank you for the compliment on the last post. I blushed IRL.
I'm still waiting to hear about the worms :)
Get well soon, Mike!
AHHHH!! NEVER, I repeat, NEVER sand without a mask! Bad Mike! mask AND goggles - thank you very much - and yes they come with a price tag but worth it. Think of it this way...(before marriage & the wife) you would never have sex without a condom because a condom costs too much, would ya? Staying magical includes staying healthy.
and yes Trish I too still have my music box :)
and the sills look fantastic.
i wouldnt wear a mask either...its a man pride thing. i know its stupid, but we gotta have something.
Have healthy lungs, you man thing! I love the condom metaphor. Yes, think of a mask as a condom for your lungs. Brilliant!
but isnt getting your lungs pregnant and claiming you will be there for the pregnant lung baby, and then going out for milk and never coming back, so much more fun?
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