Things that will make you want to divorce your husband

Or.

"How I spent my Saturday night."

Tonight, Evan and I spent our evening laying flooring. "It's SOOOOOO easy," everyone told us. "It goes together in like, a minute," they said.

Yeah, well, screw you. It certainly does not.

It started with the glueing of asbestos tiles back in place. The tiles, which broke while we were pulling up old tack stripping and now were in 74,143 different shards got apoxy'd down with sludge that was the consistency of peanut butter and smelled like melting plastic, and burned like a mofo when it made contact with flesh - which, I assure, it made plenty of contact with my fingers.

Once the shards were glued in a wreckless jigsaw puzzle, then came the laying of the foam. I liked the idea of foam on my floor, it sounded squishy and delightful under my feet. Yeah, it wasn't. It was flat, and staticky, and kept sticking to our socks, and migrating to places other than where we taped it. Eventually, the foam was taped into place with an ENTIRE roll of heavy duty tape, and we were set to begin with the wood.

The process goes something like this:
1. Squat down, and lay a piece of wood on the floor
2. Stand up and go get two spacers.
3. Squat back down and put the spacers into place and reach over and pull the wood flush to them.
4. Stand and get another piece of wood
5. Squat and snap that wood into the first.
6. Hunch over and use a hammer and a 48lb puller thing to ensure a tight fit.
7. Go deaf from the sound of the hammer hitting the iron puller thing.
8. Put another spacer in
9. Stand back up and get another board
10. Kneel on the floor and measure for your first cut
11. Stand up again, cut the wood, dust off the saw dust
12. Squat back down, attempt to fit cut wood into other pieces
13. Stand back up, knees cracking
14. Shave a tiny bit more off the edge.
15. Snap cut wood into place
16. Use hammer to push tightly against the wall.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Eight four times.

Some married couples do home improvement projects like a well oiled machine....like a team of top notch surgeons. "Hammer....Scalpel.....Spacer....Wood.."

Other married couples do home improvement projects, and all the while contemplate beating the other one with the iron puller thing, or the hammer. Whichever is closer and requires no movement to reach.

Obviously, we are the latter. Between his temper, and my pregnant hormones, I think the only thing that kept us from killing each other was the idea of getting our new floor bloody. Evan resorted to chanting "Di-VORCE" like the football "defense" catcall. I responded by flicking flooring spacers at him....Okay, okay, I stormed out of the room twice in tears and locked myself in the tools/freezer room and refused to come out until he apologized and rubbed my back a little.

At least now we can sit back in our newly floored room, sigh happily and say:

"Thank GOD that's done."