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Dear Readers: It’s The Mom..apologizing again for my screw-up. In my bleary-eyed state, I accidentally pressed the ‘publish’ function a day early so you will see two blogs published on one day. Our hope is that you will read both this post and the previous one. Sorry about my itchy trigger finger!

Now Gill:

I would say that The Mom is high maintenance because she quite frankly is. If you have never had the horror of transiting through an international airport with her, you do not know the meaning of the words high maintenance. She’s got to have snacks – the right ones, the fussy ones – her flappy bags, and her sunglasses must remain on. And she refuses to walk at a brisk enough pace to meet my rather tightly planned itinerary.

But as far as household maintenance is concerned, I would have gone with no to low maintenance. She’ll deal with something but only once it becomes such an eyesore that other people – strangers are usually the last straw – have commented on it.

When we were selling our old house, I remember the Mom going through with her glue gun and some duct tape ‘fixing’ everything – to the bare eye this stuff looked fixed but in reality it was a far cry from that. It’s very much the approach that L’il Sis and I took when we shared an apartment in Toronto: our fancy ceiling lights would burn out and they cost $25 each to replace, so instead, we just bough small lamps from IKEA. Cheaper at $10. Though, that solution came after some time – once winter settled in there just wasn’t enough daylight to make dinner by and we started to worry about cooking in the dark – especially with a parakeet and a parrot on the loose.

I have to say, it’s really the preferred method of dealing with things amongst our lot. It’s served us fairly well thus far – and by fairly well I mean no one has died yet. Crazy D once drew the line at watching a neighbour of mine try to bang a nail into the wall with a box of dominos but really, other than that…

Though, that said, once I went out to buy a drill, and I’m trying to remember why I wanted such a thing. I will assume I was putting up book shelves as that’s sort of the beginning and the end of any sort of home maintenance for me. I went out to the local hardware store and a nice gentleman served me. He raised an eyebrow when I announced I wanted to buy a drill. “What do you need that for?”

I assume I replied with something snappy like, “To drill things.” I believe this was not the confidence-inspiring response he was hoping for. And that it was my lack of, shall we say, direction that led him to make his next statement – not that I was a woman wanting to [urchase a power tool.

“Would you like me to just come over and do whatever you need to do with the drill?” he asked.

“I would like to do it myself.”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” I would have said. “Certainly not.”

He eventually – and with much reluctance – sold me what is essentially a step up from the Easy Bake Oven version of a drill. Regardless, I marched proudly home to put up my shelves. And it was shelves, I remember now, because the neighbours at the time were engineering students and had offered my roommate and I access to their diamond- tipped drill – purloined from the school engineering lab no doubt. I don’t quite remember why we didn’t take their help but I suspect it was due to them having asked my roommate to come and drink beer with them in that way where you know instantly it’s just not going to end amicably or quickly.

Anyhow, I digress. Hiring someone to do one’s home maintenance is, I think, essential. We are no longer people who know how to do useful things. I mean, sure, I can look it up on the internet but so far that hasn’t always proved the reliable approach. And I shudder to think what The Mom would do after having watching something on YouTube and then set about trying to fix something.

What would happen is that the repair bill from the qualified individual would be extortionate. which is why we hire qualified people in the first instance. Especially giving we’ll be hosting folk for L’il Sis’s wedding. Bad luck for the house to be falling down when hosting brunch!

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