Handy Manny Meet Handy Stevey

My Dearest Steve,

         My mother loves to tell the story of long ago when you and I were first dating. My mom asked you to  hang a mirror for her.  Of course, wanting to show off your mad-manly skills you said, "yes, I can do that!"

        I wasn't there for the now-infamous mirror hanging so I can neither confirm nor deny the events. But, as Mom tells the story, you started your handy-man services around the time 'Friends' came on t.v.  Friends ended....another sitcom had begun....the drilling continued....she finally opened the bedroom door and found your drill in one hand, screws in the other, shrapnel-like holes on the wall where multiple screws had been both drilled and removed, pencil lines connecting the holes like a dot-to-dot puzzle, a level thrown to the side (along with screws, nails, and several tape measures), sweat pouring down your face, AND the mirror still leaning against the bed. (You deny all of this, except for the sweating part, you said it was hot as hell and Polly wouldn't turn on the air conditioning.) The mirror did eventually make it to the wall, although I think it required the intervention of Mom.

Steve, my love, you've come a long way, baby.  You single-handedly turned  multi-painted, and weathered floors into their original beautiful condition.  I'm so impressed with your crazy, mad skills!  You make living in a remodel a total pleasure (sarcastic font inserted here.)  Almost married nine years and our favorite show has gone from The Sopranos to This Old House. 

     I'll continue remodeling you and you continue remodeling houses.  Deal?  Deal.  By the time we're done with our adventures where I live and who I live with will both be transformed! 

                                                            Love,
                                                              Gretch

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