If you've a wonderfully happy marriage, I mean.
I'm talkin' ceiling fan installation, folks.
See, I am an RTFM kinda gal. No deviations, no leftover parts. And he...isn't. So...it's been a long afternoon swinging between hope and petulance. Yes, the latter half mostly myself. But it's done. And he is singing, to the tune of Ozzy's "Mama I'm Comin' Home" the words, "The fan's done...it's hung...it's turnin' makin' a breeze and mama, mama I hung the faaan!"
Lord, I love that fool.