Chris is in the process of remodeling one of our kitchen walls. Why one wall? Because that's how we poor folks remodel - one wall at a time.
He knocked out a large area for a new pantry. Because the new pantry extends the kitchen into the garage, he had to re-organize his tool bench area. Since he's trying to finish the wall before vermin start to invade, he temporarily moved much of the stuff from that wall to an area directly in front of my filing cabinets and my chest freezer.
I'm trying to be nice. He is fulfilling my wildest dreams - a pantry large enough to store my cake pop maker, my mixer, and the fine china we got as wedding gifts and have yet to use after 8 years. I don't come home and scream, "GET THIS JUNK OUT OF MY WAY!!! CAN I PULEEASE GET TO MY FREEZER!!"
Well, not out loud anyway. I say A LOT inside my head.
Before leaving for the trade show last week, I needed to get to my filing area to find software. Problem? There was 6 horizontal feet and 3 vertical feet of pesticides, paint cans, and copper pipe between me and those precious file drawers.
I tried to move things around. Tried to wedge myself between things but... I fell.
I'm sporting a 3" x 3" scrape and bruise on my calf, and a bruise I'm too terrified to measure on my upper thigh.
Tears immediately sprung to my eyes as I walked in and showed Chris my mangled legs. I verbally assaulted him then proceeded to give him the silent treatment for 2 days.
During those 2 days of silence, he was in a fantastic mood. He whistled while working, cracking jokes, and poking fun at the bruise on my upper thigh asking if I fell on the pile of junk or humped it.
Who knew silence from me was an amazing reward?!?!
Oh hush up!