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
You should have decorated that concrete with high heel marks and wine jewels -- it needs a little something.
Posted by: Executive Suburbanite | May 23, 2011 at 01:22 PM
It doesn't even go anywhere. It's on the side of the house. It is the most boring home improvement project ever.
SK
Posted by: Suburban Kamikaze | May 23, 2011 at 06:02 PM
You can sit out there and sunbathe with margaritas this coming weekend. At least it will be less boring that way.
Posted by: foolery | May 25, 2011 at 02:34 PM
Oh I so feel you on this one, sister.
Posted by: Meg | May 26, 2011 at 04:13 AM