Yesterday eCrush Boy put me in charge of our Weekend Game Plan. In the past, we’ve both figured out what we were doing as individuals and then sort of located mutually empty times where we could hang out. If all else failed, we would share sleep time. But I guess the planning component of our weekend has evolved. It seems eCrush wants us to have one plan, inclusive of both him and me, with all events overlapping. And as of Thursday morning, I was in charge. While I was a little confused by this sudden shift in our dynamic, my inherently bossy self silenced the part of me that was questioning the change.

Over Achiever Me spent yesterday diligently coming up with proposed activities. There was the “Sunny Weather Plan,” the “Foul Outside Plan” and the “Wanna Be Lazy and Hang At Home Plan.” On and off during the day, I emailed the options to eCrush. As expected, his A-type heart appreciated all my anal-retentive tendencies. By the end of the work day, there was a tentative agenda in place.

So, on a seemingly tangential but actually related topic… Last night, I finally broke down and bought some shelving from the Second Job Which Restores My Faith In Humanity. The system does require some assembly, but it’s minimal. Basically, I just need to drill some holes in the wall, toss in some screws, attach a lot of pieces and presto-mundo, storage heaven! It’s the kind of thing even a non-toolsy person can deal with.

During our Good Night Call, I mentioned to eCrush Boy that I was invoking my power as Official Weekend Planner. We were changing things to include a new Friday Night Construction Project: putting up my shelves. I said I would even let him use my new power drill. It makes a vrooooomvroom sound and has some sort of thrusty action that makes the holes appear faster. Come on, that’s incentive! Anyhoodles, eCrush Boy was not amused.

For awhile, I’ve suspected that eCrush is not like my father when it comes to Fun With Tools. Over the years Dad’s fixed toilets and washing machines, changed brake pads, painted the inside and outside of our house at least three times, and constructed brand new cherry cabinets during the Massive Kitchen Renovation of ’04. Give Dad a saw, and he morphs into the Mr. Wizard of home repair. Apparently, eCrush was not raised in a DIY household. His father did not walk around with a hammer in one hand and a wrench in the other. eCrush’s family is what is referred to in some circles as Puke Inducingly Rich and whenever the garbage disposal broke, they’d call a plumber. So, as soon as I mentioned my little project, eCrush asked if it was too late to get professional instillation. I explained this entire thing involved a little leveling, eight pilot holes, some electric screw magic and a minimal amount of brawn.

As I mentioned the leveling, eCrush got real quiet. At the point where I discussed pilot holes, I knew this was not going over well. As I talked about putting the hold-the-screw-in-the-drywall thingies in and how that was the hardest part of the entire project, eCrush broke.

eCrush (in a State of Total Panic): I have never done anything like this. I am not handy. This is what you pay people to do. You know, people with job titles like Handyman.

Me (rolling eyes but maintaining Patient Voice): Come on, we can do it. I know what I’m doing and it’ll be Tool Lesson 101 for you. Bring over your own hammer if it makes you feel more comfortable.


Me (sort of suspiciously and all squinty eyed): You have a hammer, right? Right?

eCrush (way too proud in lieu of what he was admitting): Nope. No hammer.

Me (Patient Voice gone, replaced by Incredulous Voice): You’re a boy! How can you not have a hammer? How did you hang up all the fancy art work in your apartment?

eCrush (with an overt tone of So Sue Me): Hired somebody.


eCrush: You still here?

Me (not at all joking): Do you have balls? I mean, really?

eCrush (slightly offended): Just because I don’t have tools does not mean I am not appropriately manly.

Me (on a high horse): Well, combined with the fact that you own hideous madras pants, it does. Seriously. I mean, seriously Seriously.

eCrush (willing to go down fighting when it comes to his Manhood): Jesus Christ on a stick. Will you let the madras pants go already? And look who is being all judgy tonight. If you think I need a hammer, I will go buy a freaking hammer. Once I locate a tool store.

Me (will not be defeated): Forget it. I’ll just give you one of mine. The flowered one my grandma gave me when I went to college. It’ll match your sissypants. Now, break out the Carhartts, babe. You’re going to help me put up shelves while we watch the Maybe Debate.

eCrush (clearly determined never to wield a basic tool of any sort): How about I watch and hand you things?

Me (banging head against wall where shelves will one day be hanging): So, can we discuss which one of us is going to wear the pants in this relationship again?

eCrush (going out with a bang): You mean the non-madras ones, right?


6 Responses to “Negotiations”

  1. michelle Says:

    he paid someone to hang up art work? wow!

    i bet you could hang those shelves yourself…

    make ecrush cook you dinner or something….

  2. LivitLuvit Says:

    HA! You better buy the boy some HandyMan lessons… hot pants toolbelt included… Teach a man to fish, and all that!

  3. Jocelyn Says:

    *laughs* I thought one of the perks of being in a relationship with a man is having them do handy tool-involving tasks, as opposed to calling your dad. Damn it all.

  4. Laina Says:

    Oh good lord. Although I am proud of you for knowing what Carhardtts are. Did you learn that on our “Very First Trip To Tractor Supply”? 😉

  5. me Says:

    you’re kind of funny, but not quite there yet

  6. Why I Am Now Convinced McCain is God « Who Invented Roses Says:

    […] 2, 2008 in Dating blows the big one Last Friday, when eCrush realized that I really had morphed our private debate party into Handy People ‘R’ Us, he asked what he could contribute to Operation Shelf Hang. I wasn’t […]

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