Wednesday, January 16, 2013

It'll Only Take An Hour, He Said

After the great drill search detailed in "I Didn't Ask For Your Help, He Said", Mr. Snark spent the remainder of Saturday running to and from the hardware store, attempting to purchase a diamond saw blade capable of both A) fitting the Snark family circular saw and B) capable of cutting through tile and mortar in order to make the island hole large enough for the new stove top to fit into.

Sometime Saturday evening, Mr. Snark returned from his fourth (and final) trip and made the triumphant announcement:  "This one fits!"

There was much rejoicing in the land.

Sunday morning:

Mrs. Snark entered the kitchen to the sight of Mr. Snark hanging plastic sheeting from the stainless steel range above the island. "It's like Dexter meets an extreme Food Network show," she said.

"This is going to be messy," Mr. Snark said. "I need for you to get all of the children and the cats out of the house while I make the cuts."

"Okay, I'll take them to the mall and then lunch. The boys have been after me to go by Gamestop anyway," Mrs. Snark said, and off they went. (With the kids, not the cats.)

Hours later, Mrs. Snark returned home to discover Mr. Snark parked in front of a football game.

Despite the plastic sheeting, an EPIC amount of mortar dust blanketed every surface in the kitchen.  It was as if a volcano had erupted right in the middle of the room, spewing forth debris.

"Oooohhhh, my kitchen!" Mrs. Snark wailed.

"Yeah," Mr. Snark said. "It was surprisingly messy."

Then she noticed that the corners of the hole still had chunks of mortar in them. "Is the cook top going to fit with those chunks in there?" she asked.

"No," Mr. Snark said. "I need to use the saw again in order to get them out."

Mrs. Snark cast a suspicious glance toward the clock and noted the fact that Mr. Snark had taken all of the plastic sheeting down and removed his tools.  It was getting on toward Sunday evening and Mr. Snark worked in the morning. The sense of DOOM DOOM DOOM settled over her.

"How long will that take?" she asked.

"It'll only take an hour," he said.

Mrs. Snark sighed. "That sounds like a weekend project."


At this time, I've been two weeks without an operational stove top. If next weekend is an interesting as this weekend, I'll probably write more about it.


  1. I sneak in, read your post and roll out laughing without leaving a comment. Not tonight. Girl, I am loving this. I mean I feel bad for you, but your man is so typically male. Love it!!!

    1. Thanks, Vonnie. Too true, he's very typically male. ;-)

  2. You're making it too easy for him, Mrs. Snark! It's time for an ultimatum. Here are the options I would give him. 1) install the cook top. 2) pay to have the cook top installed. 3) dress up every evening and pay to take the family out to dinner until the cook top is installed. If all options are refused, hand him a cold can of beans.

    1. Sandra,
      By this point, all of the hard work is done. I did learn a valuable lesson and when we bought a new toilet from Home Depot last weekend, I paid for the installation. *G*

  3. I vote with Sandy! (This saga is so much more fun to read about because it's not happening at my house.)

    1. Alison, gee, thanks. :-D I wish this saga had happened to someone else as well.