Married to MacGyver

Triskaidekaphobia. That’s the only vocabulary word I remember from 10th grade English class. It’s an irrational fear of the number 13. Triskaidekaphobia is so wide spread, many tall buildings don’t have a 13th floor. The elevator buttons in these buildings simply skip from 12 to 14. Thankfully, I don’t suffer from this malady. It’s probably a good thing too, as I’m in my 13th year of marriage. Over these 13 years, I’ve learned many things about my husband. For one thing, Sir William turns his clothes right side out before putting them in the laundry. He can detail a car like nobody’s business. The man vacuums the carpet like a professional. He has many, many great qualities. The one though, that never stops amazing me is his innate ability to fix literally anything. He has the mind of an engineer and the heart of a social worker. Put them together and it’s like being married to MacGyver! A few cable ties, a Swiss Army knife and voila—problem solved. Between his skills and my compulsion to rescue dilapidated furniture abandoned on the roadside, we’ve basically decorated our home with refurbished trash. I wouldn’t exactly call it Pottery Barn—our decor is more like Terracotta Shed, but we love it. In addition, I have watched him install electrical outlets with a wire hanger, reroute cable lines behind crown molding and build furniture out of scraps of wood. To further illustrate his ability, I was recently lamenting about the tangle of computer cords under our desk. (Yes, we still use a desktop. I know! We’re practically Amish.) Cord clutter makes me crazy. So within minutes, we went

from THIS:









to THIS:
I don’t know if Sir William used dental floss or paperclips or what, but just look at it!!! The power strip is actually attached to the underside of the desk. Like the 13th floor in a tall building, all those yucky cords have disappeared.

Which has me thinking…

I’ll bet Sir William could even cure triskaidekaphobia with something as simple as a stick of gum and a shoe lace.