90%? 90%?!!! Well, that makes a lot of sense. But in light of this weekend, I’m not sure Husband is even hitting that.
Husband gets a lie-in and plans to take Noodles and Boo to his mum’s for the afternoon, so I can start to paint the dining area of the kitchen. That’s nice of him. Except I know this largely means his mum does the childcare bit whilst he keeps track of the football. Still, it also meant he was actually keeping his promise to give me some time to decorate, so I couldn’t be too annoyed.
What was annoying though is that Husband’s mate who did the plastering only completed 90% of the job, leaving part of the ceiling unfinished.
Not that I could reach it anyway. The ladder only reached 90% as far as I needed it to.
Husband had no one to
off-load the kids onto share the childcare with, so was less enthusiastic about leaving me alone with the roller. After dragging his heels over leaving the house (‘I’ll take as long as I want.’ Nice, when your daughter’s chomping at the bit to get to the soft play area, your son has climbed into the buggy by himself in preparation and your wife’s got to finish the painting and do a supermarket run before 4 o’clock) he was back again by 3pm. Funnily enough, I’d only got 90% of the way through the second coat before they were crashing through the door again.
‘We can finish it once we’ve got Noodles and Boo to bed,’ Husband helpfully suggested.
You can read about what Husband actually means when he uses the word ‘we’ HERE and realise why it’s lucky for Husband that I was using a roller and not, say, a rifle.
I think it’s fair to say I wasn’t in the best of moods as I tried to tidy the DIY things away whilst Noodles clung to my leg, whingeing. (Whingeing, as it turned out, because Husband had failed to provide him or Boo with lunch – apparently a bag of Monster Munch is sufficient. That’s not even 90% of a lunch.)
Me: There’s really not much point putting the proper paint on until the ceiling’s finished in case Rob gets plaster on the walls.
Husband: Oh, didn’t I say? Rob’s not going to be able to finish the job.
Rob was meant to be back in the summer to finish not only the ceiling but to plaster the rest of the kitchen too. Taking my Kitchen Improvement Plan into account (a Kitchen Improvement Plan admittedly 90% confined to my own brain lest the grand scheme made Husband’s wallet retreat further than an eskimo’s testicles in mid-winter) we’re actually now stuck at only 10% completion. It’s taken 10 years to get this far. I’m going to be dead before I get a kitchen I don’t despise.
Husband: I’m sure I told you.
No. Husband told me he’d bumped into Rob who’d bumped into Chiwetel Ejiofor. At no point in the anecdote did he say ‘…and so Rob won’t ever be coming back to finishing plastering the kitchen.’ Obviously he’d only told me 90% of the story.
So, despite my weekend of home improvement I’m 100% annoyed. Husband, meanwhile, seems to be 0% bothered.
Welcome to my 50% world.