The pandemic has given us all the chance to use sheltering in place to get a few things done—organizing, gardening, binge-watching, and of course gaining weight.
But here is
the main thing St. Bob has done: He has
mentally remodeled the entire house. Bashing and crashing has been a theme for
OUR ENTIRE MARRIAGE and I have joked about having seen more worker’s butt
cracks than any other human on the planet (except it’s not a joke).
People wonder
how I can tolerate this constant upheaval, but Bob’s plans always turn out so great that I just
focus on the final result. Here is his latest routine: He sits on the back
patio each morning, and envisions the massive changes he can make to our house.
“We’ll take
out this wall,” he begins, then describes outrageously expensive and thus
impossible plans to expand our footprint, enlarge the kitchen, swing the garage
around to the side, make a sunroom, on and on.
Fortunately,
the price tag slows him down. (Cue ominous music here). But then we got an email from Stake Presidency
of our church, sharing ideas from the leaders about how to effectively use this
time.
Normally this would not require
ominous music, right? I mean, it includes wonderful ideas about Christ-centered
worship and serving others. But then it says, “Use this time to continue to renovate our lives & homes into a
sanctuary of faith and a center of gospel learning and doing.”
And you know darn well what
word popped out in 48-pt font in Bob’s mind:
RENOVATE
That’s right. He now feels he
has been directed by our religious leaders to call contractors and draw up
plans. It’s just like the phrase, “You hear what you want to hear” only it’s “You
see what you want to see.”
Meanwhile, I’m thinking I might
design workmen’s shirts with an extra long tail in back to cover their hind
sides, take it on Shark Tank, and possibly earn enough money to finance Bob’s
dreams.
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