We sold our giant microwave. It was a very nice microwave - black, new, GIANT, fully-functional - but it just didn't work in our kitchen. Every time I wanted to turn on the oven or stove, I had to crawl under it to see what knobs I was turning. When the inspector came to the house, he measure the distance between the cooktop and microwave and declared it several inches short of the required 19. So, we sold the microwave to our friends Justin and Jo, and bought a very nice, and much more streamlined, black range hood.
I notified Justin that our new hood was set to arrive Saturday, and that he and Jo could come pick up their new microwave anytime during the weekend. They were in our area Saturday afternoon, and so stopped by to get it. Taking down the microwave was not especially traumatic... At least, I don't think it was. I never watch these kinds of operations. They make me very very nervous. But I WAS listening from the other room. When Mark declared "We may have a problem," I wasn't worried. I responded, "The wall isn't painted behind the microwave?" He answered in the affirmative. I braved the kitchen in order to assess the damage. Aside from a hole nearly the size of my hand up by the cabinet, it didn't look too bad. Yes, it wasn't painted... Neither were the sides of the cabinets, but that didn't worry me. Paint is easy. Also, the previous owners left us all kinds of paint in a closet downstairs. But that hole... I wasn't sure about that hole. Mark assured me he could fix it. I believed him. We decided to leave the rest of the work on the wall and the hood hanging until the next day.
In the meantime, our new gas dryer had also been delivered. Mark decided to try to set it up. He discovered he was missing some necessary parts. Off he went to Home Depot. I don't remember what I was doing at this time. Sometime productive I'm sure. (Oh I just remembered. I was painting the second bedroom).
Mark returned with the wrong parts. It was late. We were tired and so decided to go to bed.
Sunday was a whirlwind of projects. Mark got up early and started patching the wall. I slept in. I got up and assessed his progress. Looked good. I finished the second coat of paint in the second bedroom. We decided to go to Menards to get the parts necessary to install the dryer. At Menards, we discovered an entire wall of little gas dryer to gas supply line connectors. Find the right one took a long time. Then, starving, we had lunch at Taco Bell. After lunch, we talked to Dave and Barb and decided that Dave would help Mark with the dryer while Barb and I went shopping for furniture (I would say we got the better end of that deal). We found a fantastic couch at this discount furniture store -- every thing I wanted in my basement couch -- and so, after consulting with Mark, I bought it. When we got home, we found out that the dryer was working but the furnace wasn't. Turns out that Mark and Dave had to shut all the gas off so they could install a new pipe and gas valve above the dryer. Doing so caused the pilot lights in the furnace and water heater to go out. Mark and Dave successfully and with much aplomb re-lit both pilots and no one blew up. A win-win.
With the dryer installed, we were left with the kitchen mess. By now, the oven was in the middle of the kitchen and there was sheet rock dust everywhere. Mark was tired and declared that we could not finish it that night. So, I primed the wall and cabinets and then we watched the academy awards.
Monday night, I couldn't take the oven in the kitchen anymore. I went and color-matched the paint for the wall (because of all the paint in that downstairs closet, none was the color of the kitchen). Mark went back to the duplex to do a little more cleaning. I painted the walls. And the cabinets. I let the messy kitchen drive me a tiny bit insane. I wanted Mark to come home so we could install the hood and put my life back to rights.
He finally got back after 9 p.m. Because he is an awesome husband, he saw that I could not possibly live another night in the house with the messy kitchen. So he agreed to hang the hood. Which we did. It wasn't the easiest or quickest job. But we were in bed by 10:30 (and that is a comment on the time length of the job, not on how old and busted Mark and I are).
This morning I had a banana in my clean kitchen while admiring my newly-painted wall and my newly-hung (but still non-functioning) black hood.
The story behind the name:
One evening, at the Old Broadway Grill in Fargo, North Dakota, my brother caught the end of a Mountain Dew commercial. In the commercial, a Mountain Dew drinker was riding a shark in the ocean. My brother exclaimed in surprise, not realizing that it was a commercial. When I told him he declared "All I saw was a guy coming out of the shower with a shark." Of course, he meant water, but the idea of showering with sharks has been with me ever since.