Adam and His Tools

I sit here today writing, as I recover from an injury I accidentally inflicted on myself the other day. It was a beautiful and sunny, and I had walked outside to push a couple of my boys on the swing set. All I remember is stepping on the back porch then seconds later realizing I was lying on the concrete driveway.

“Mom, are you ok?” my boys asked as they ran to my side.

I couldn’t move my hand or leg at the moment and I felt a twinge of fear realizing I was injured and alone with 4 kids. How did I get here? I wondered. I looked back up to the porch and there it was.....Adam’s tools!

He had worked on the car a couple of days prior, and then put all the tools he used on the back porch instead of in the garage where they belonged. I had obviously tripped over the large fluorescent orange extension cord, because it definitely wasn’t big enough or bright enough to catch my eye.

Lesson 26: falling off your porch due to abundance of crap on it = white trash

I laughed to myself realizing that from now on, I finally had ammunition to get him to put his stinkin’ tools away. His tools have always been a thorn in my side. They are everywhere!

If any of you have a husband, I’m sure you’ll agree, most men LOVE tools! There are a few that don’t, like two of my brothers, the closest they get to using a tool is texting on their cell phones. Not Adam. Adam is a chef and still can’t get enough carpentry, electronic, and mechanics tools. When we go to Lowes he sounds like my kids at Toys R Us. “I need it.” He tells me in a whiny voice. After looking at the price tag I lovingly respond, “You don’t need it, you want it.”

Of course, with as much as he loves these random little trinkets, or large machines that I have no clue as to what their use could possibly be, you’d think he’d take better care of the ones he has. He told me once he “needed” a huge tool chest with a refrigerator in it. Huh?! He already has three or four tool boxes that are practically empty because he never puts his tools away.

I love him to death, and I am so glad I married someone who knows how to fix just about anything, but tools laying everywhere make me crazy. It wouldn’t be so bad if he would remember where he left them. One time he yelled at me because he couldn’t find the staple gun. He insisted that I had moved it. (Yeah, I just can’t wait for him to go to work so I can staple something!) A couple of months later I found it, along with a camping lantern, in his underwear drawer. I kid you not, in his underwear! When I told him I found it he jokingly asked why I had put it there.

Lesson 27: staple gun and lantern in your underwear drawer = white trash

To give you an idea of how ridiculous it is, I have taken an inventory of the tools in each room. It goes as follows:

Basement: 1 drill, 3 extension cords, 2 vice grips, 1 level, 1 hammer, 1 line reel, 1 box of screws, and 1 drywall scraper

Kitchen: 1 box cutter, 1 pair of wire cutters, 1 container of metal staples, 1 box of nails, 1 wall scraper, 1 dremel, 1 box of drill bits, 3 wrenches, 1 Phillips head screw driver, 3 cans of paint, 1 mini paint roller, and 3 mechanics tools I have no idea of what they are!

Hallway: In a decorative basket of mine, I found 1 flat head screwdriver, about 5 screws, a hammer, and some sandpaper

Bathroom: there was surprisingly nothing in my bathroom today, but I did remove a drywall trowel from our clean sheets in the linen closet a couple of weeks ago.

Our Bedroom: 1 gallon of paint, 4 paint rollers, 2 paintbrushes, 1 paint pan, 4 sandpaper blocks, 1 jigsaw, and a 12 gallon shop-vac (yep, the big one! Noooooo, it doesn't take up any room at all.)

The Boys’ Room: NOTHING! Are you kidding me?! They are men too. If there were ever any tools left in that room I’m sure by morning I’d find some sort of badly nailed together totem pole of toys and at least one child staple gunned to the wall.

Our Daughter’s Room: Jovie is only one and still in a crib, so Adam takes full advantage of the fact that she really can’t use her room yet. The poor child’s girly armoire is topped by 1 can of paint, 1 crowbar, 1 weird screwdriver (I couldn’t identify the tip), 1 bag of nails, 1 caulk gun, and 1 level propped up next to the armoire that is just as tall

So, I’m sure by now you can see why, although I do have a badly sprained ankle, I delight in the fact that Adam will be taking better care of his tools, and keep the eye sores out of my sight.