Not really an ode, just me bitching.
Some of you may recall when Tom Riske, the misfit "Guy" was rehabbing our bathroom a few summers ago. Our tiny bathroom, ringing in at about 6x5? If that? And it took him from Memorial Day to Labor Day and then some. Seriously, it should've been a weekend project. Seriously.
But no, we had a lot of fun, coming home to see that you left The U on full blast because you like watching The Munsters and other sitcoms from the 50s and 60s. And your overalls just lying on the floor in a heap. That's totally not creepy at all, expecting to find a pantless Guy wandering around the house. Oh, and mostly we loved when we'd come home and there would be 2 tiles on the wall. For real. You spent a full day putting up TWO TILES.
And then you wouldn't show up for 2 weeks. In the meantime, of course, we're taking showers in the tin can shower stall in the basement with Charlotte, who had only taken baths at that point and, I'm pretty sure, based on that summer will never fully recover from the trauma of very close naked wet quarters with her mom - the kid will be taking baths 'til she's 100.
Oh, and who can forget the Fourth? The Fourth of July? Oh, by this point, you were really pretty sure you were part of our family. Having spent so much time eating breakfast at my aunt's house with her grandkids at the kitchen table while you "worked" on her roof and patio, well, I guess I can see why you thought you were just one of the gang. However, when we saw you on July 1 or 2, and you asked my husband to stick around on 4th of July to help you with some stuff, and so off I went with Charlotte to a family party, leaving Michael behind at home to work with you and meet up with us later. Imagine my SHOCK when I walked into my cousin's house and THERE YOU WERE, sitting on the sofa, having a burger. What. The. Hell?
Anyway, despite all that, I think I finally got over most of my anger after we had someone else come finish the tiling and window for us, and we could start showering upstairs again, and giving our daughter baths again, living like humans instead of trolls.
And then I saw you at the restaurant when I was at a wedding shower. And it took me a minute to register who you were. But then the anger rushed up again and I just wanted to kick you in your shins.
Because more than almost anything else you did that made our summer hellish and annoying, more than all the not-quite-right things we came across in subsequent months, yep, more than anything else, what I despise you most for is every morning in this 10 degree weather, when I go into my bathroom and there is no heat. None. Not a bit. Because you closed up the old vent, and left a hole under the vanity to put the new vent, but never installed the ductwork for it. That -and that alone, actually - is what makes me want to kick you in the shins, hard, every time I see you.
Ass.