Story Time: Honey Do(n't

Our first home was a "fixer-upper." Some of the work we did included: replacing the flooring, remodeling the kitchen, painting every.stinkin.wall, smoothing the ceilings (that one got me a trip to the hospital and concussion...but I digress), and more. We also changed out every ceiling light and fan in the house. And by 'we,' I mostly mean ‘me.’ Of the 6 fans in the house, I replaced 5 of them with the help of my mom. The one fan I did not do was the fan in our master bedroom. This fan was left on the 'honey-do' list.

So, my honey did it.

Fast forward down the road and imagine waking up from a peaceful (pre-children) sleep to a very loud explosion in the middle of the night! We shot straight up in bed, completely startled and discombobulated. We both see what appears, in the dark, to be smoke, and David yells, 'Fire!' Obviously, this creates even more panic, and we frantically fumble to get out of bed. A few seconds later, we realize what has happened. The only fan to be installed, not by me, had fallen from the ceiling onto our bed. The 'smoke' was (embarrassingly) just a bunch of dust from the fan (don't judge me), and the 'explosion' was just the noise of the fan hitting our bed and then the floor.

I would like to take a moment to re-reiterate who had had installed the fan-David. Not me. My fans are all still securely hanging from the ceilings.

The more I write these, the more I realize they often include me thinking, even if for just a moment, I am going to die...

Dear David,

Let's leave the fan installations to your wifey. Mkay? Thanks.

Sincerely,
Your better-at-installing-fans-than-you wife