When it comes to handymanliness, I inherited a couple genes. Oh, I can handle a little rough carpentry, some painting. I can lay tile with a little help, and I have yet to electrocute myself changing a light switch. But when the Missus decided it was time to remodel our bedroom I was a little apprehensive.
We've re-done the rest of the house. I knew I could handle our bedroom. It was the our bathroom that had me sweating bullets. I knew the crappy wall tiles around the tub, and a leaky bathtub/shower faucet were going to be the death of me.
Ever the trooper, the Missus took to deconstructing the bathroom wall while I was out. (Figures she and Krusty would take the fun part) When I got home, the bathroom was down to the studs and my task lay exposed. Remove the old faucet, put in place when the house was built in 1974, and replace it with a new, un-leaky one.
I hate plumbing. Nothing ever works like it is supposed to the first time I put it together. Something always leaks. I always cuss. And that's with PVC. When it comes to copper pipes. I scream like a little girl.
I figured it was as good a time as any for some male bonding, so I called in the big guns to help. Pappa Turd showed up early with all his assorted tools. We shut off the water and commenced to sweatin' -- the pipes to remove the old faucet.
Then it was off to the giant Lowes-rent hardware store for a new one.
Back a the ranch our open pipe just laughed when they saw what we had in store. Assembly was easy. Sweating the shit back together was a bitch. Eight hours and 80,000 trips to the water main later. The damn thing still leaked.
Plumber showed up the next morning, disassembled our mess, installed new copper, and reassembled the whole damn thing in 20 minutes.
Guess who won't be installing our new tub.