I have a worrying urge. I’ve never felt this before, but over the past few months it’s been getting stronger and stronger.
So much so that I feel I’ll have to act upon it. But I fear for my marriage if I do.
Although the house we’ve just moved into is almost perfect, the lounge and main bedroom do need some work – and I have the urge to do it myself.
A lot of the work renovating this house was carried out by the former owners and this seemed to impress my wife.
The tiled bathroom, fitted kitchen, plumbing and wood flooring were all fitted by them.
A feeling of inadequacy filled my being. Because I’ve never built anything in my life.
I once mounted hi-fi speakers on a wall using six-inch nails. But maybe now is the time to come good?
Needing to act, I headed straight for Homebase where I purchased a DeWalt drill and other products.
These included a heavy-duty DeWalt radio so I look good when the time to drill comes.
Heading out into the garden with my pristine Timberland boots and jeans with a slight tear in, I bent over to fix a hole in the fence, revealing my builder’s bum to the neighbours.
I was now a real craftsman. There was no limit to what I could build.
Sadly a badger easily removed the wood panels I had placed in the gap overnight, causing a big mess of wood and earth over the garden.
I’ve been forced to call a specialist to sort it out.
I’m now banned from lifting a finger in the lounge after managing to break the lights and fusing the house, requiring an electrician to be called who cussed at the ‘cowboy’ who’d previously tried to do the job.
All of this I can take on the chin. But what made my lack of practicality unbearable is when my wife managed to put up the shelving correctly after my original attempt fell down.
The only things I’ve gained from the whole experience are a drill big enough to discover oil and several holes in the wall that now require plastering by a professional.