Not unlike a syndicated sitcom, Larry’s home improvement projects typically begin with benign statements, like, “I think the reason why it stinks in here is ...”
That’s my cue to look nervously at the camera, one hand on hip, the other hand clutching our soon-to-be overworked checkbook.
In today's episode, his "reason why it stinks in here" was the windows. The windows which have been painted shut for close to seventy years.
Now, of course, the offending windows can't simply be replaced. They must first be punished. With tools. After all, they've been taunting Larry nonstop since we bought this house. “Hey, look at us! We’re painted shut! Heh heh heh. Hey, guy, whaddaya say you open us up and let the fresh air in? Ooooohhhhhh wait, you can’t, because, why? Ohhh, that’s right ... we’re painted shut. Oh, and we hate you!”
He tries to ignore them. But, they are very sassy windows. Insolent, really. And he’s just been to the beach, where the benefits of fresh air have been made so very clear.
So, the windows, they must be confronted.
I am sitting on the couch reading Gus the Peekaboo Book, when Larry approaches with a crowbar and a large hammer.
"I can wait and do this later if you're in the middle of a book," he says, hovering maniacally by the window.
"I don't think you can," I say, taking the baby upstairs to our safe place where we wait.
There is much smacking and hammering and banging.
Cue breaking-glass sound effect.
Gus looks at me.
I look at Gus.
We shake our heads.
Cue laugh track.
This is followed by a short commercial break during which we hear the broken window pieces picked, one by one, off the living room floor.
Scene three. Larry comes upstairs to report that he thinks he got all the glass off the floor. It turns out he wasn’t even doing anything when the window broke. It was the darndest thing! He was simply trying to push it open with his hands! Using hardly any force whatsoever!
This reminds me of last weekend at my parents' house when the breakfast plates literally jumped off the shelf at my father! Just jumped off the shelf and smashed on the counter! My mom could hardly believe it when we told her how it happened.
Anyway, the wife character, weary and wise--upon hearing how the window just broke of its own accord--says nothing of the crowbar. Or the hammer. Or the vigorous smacking. She only nods in agreement that, yes, we should probably think about those replacement windows.
After all, she figures, now that there's no window, the air in here is plenty fresh without her two cents thrown in.