Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Making Lemonade

So when you get lemons...

Don't put them on the table.

I don't know what I would do if I lost Adam. He may have his annoying moments, but we are a solid team. I may do most of the housework and childcare, but he takes care of stuff that just isn't on my radar. He knows how to check that wet spot on the ceiling. He knows what to do if the dishwasher stops working and flashes an error. He mows the lawn and blows the snow and takes out the garbage. He knows what outdoor maintenance needs to happen and he makes it work.

OK, I know I could figure all of this out if I had to. But I kind of love that I DON'T have to. 

Except when he forgets.

In New England, there is plenty to do to get your outdoors ready for the long winter. Put away the lawnmower, ready the snowblower. Get the sandbox secured and the driveway stakes in. Probably other things that I don't think about because I don't do them.

But a pretty important one is to put the patio furniture away.

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but Adam missed that this winter.

Well, maybe I am sure. The man has a to-do list with about three hundred items on it (only a slight exaggeration). He did keep mentioning that he needed to get the patio furniture in, but he also kept mentioning that he needed to clean the basement. Neither happened.

Suddenly, winter was upon us and never let up, and the patio furniture sat outside, buried in snow. Cold, snow, sleet, more snow, polar vortex, more snow, freezing rain, cold, snow, sleet, repeat. Tease of spring...no. Tease of spring...no. Winter was hanging on, all through March.

I know it's been beaten to death, but this winter was AWFUL. Our oil bills alone were enough to make us seriously consider moving to a warmer climate.

Then, as spring finally seemed to toss winter out, and the calendar turned to April, Adam decided we needed to replace the outdoor umbrella. He actually had brought the umbrella in, but it was old and faded and the crank to open it had broken at some point last summer. He went out and picked out a new one, and started to thread it through the opening on the table.

And the table shattered.

Literally. Spectacularly. Impressively. Completely.


The new(ish) patio was completely covered in tiny specks of glass. It was absolutely beautiful.

And a big, sparkling pile of lemons.

Obviously, the glass needed to be cleaned up before a) the girls went outside b) any animals tried to eat the glass and c) the glass scratched up the beautiful blue stone patio that we still have sticker shock over.

And then, yeah, we need a new table.

Money we were not planning on spending. We have a few things in the house we've planned on and budgeted for, and all of these little annoying things keep sneaking their way into that budget. A patio table isn't nearly as much as a new kitchen floor or new doors, but it cuts into the budget and messes with the plan.

The lemonade?

We've found that the girls really like patio furniture shopping. So many tables! Inside the stores! Chairs to sit on and tables to crawl under!

And I guess the big glass of lemonade is that we do get to upgrade our table. We've had that one since we moved into the house, and it is nice to upgrade.

And the best lemonade of all? We are not getting another glass table. We'd love to say that we'll never forget to bring it in again, that we've learned our lesson, but life happens. We didn't intend on forgetting this time, we certainly can't make a guarantee for the future. We need a table that could, theoretically, survive a New England winter.

When you get a big sparkling pile of lemons, there is always lemonade to be had.

The only issue now is that we found that we are completely incompatible on tables that aren't made of glass. I like wood, he likes stone tile. I like outdoor casual, he likes stately. I like to see the table in person, he likes to browse online. So by the time we agree it will probably be NEXT summer. Any suggestions, loyal readers?

And of course, for more funny hubby stories, make sure to check out the book! My husband may smash tables with umbrellas, but he hasn't spilled gas in my car or started bee keeping...yet. 
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