Mr. Kamikaze looks out the window where a steady drizzle drops from a concrete-gray sky.
"This is perfect weather for concrete," he says happily.
"Yes," I say. "It looks like I got my bikini wax just in time."
My idea of a perfect weekend spent measuring, mixing and pouring is a blend of salt, tequila and limes. His idea calls for 15 80-pound bags of concrete powder. It looks like it would taste terrible.
But there is no undermining his satisfaction today. He watches as his little patch of fresh sidewalk cures perfectly under a dreary sky. It is perfect weather for concrete.
They should put that on a postcard, I say.
from the so-called Home Improvement archives: The Dirty Girl's Guide to Home Improvement