Enough Is Enough

When is it acceptable to firmly put your foot down with a man and refuse to believe that he is capable of carrying out any DIY task, without trampling on his ego and risking an almighty strop, big enough to rival that of your 3 year old daughter? I only ask because I have had to do exactly that with Mr H. I don't enjoy telling him that I'd rather hand over our well earned cash to someone who waves a business card under my nose and tells me that he has letters after his name to prove that he's a plumbing/electricity/carpentry expert.

But after this week, I think it's going to be very easy to wave my trump card, accept professional help and say 'Enough Is Enough!'.

Picture the scene...10 months ago, a lovely, shiny, new washing machine arrived on our doorstep, accompanied by an equally lovely young gentleman who had come to install it. The warning bells should have been ringing very loudly when I overheard Mr H say rather jovially, 'oh don't worry old chap, I can look after that', at which point, the lovely, capable gentleman from Hotpoint waved goodbye, never to be seen again (whilst no doubt thinking how wonderful it was to be clocking off early).

Now picture the scene 2 months ago. We'd suspected that there was a damp problem in the house when the freshly painted white walls started bubbling and producing a texture not dissimilar to that horrid 70's wallpaper effect. 'Don't worry, darling', exclaimed Mr H in his most reassuring voice. 'It must be the flat roof!'. And so followed many a trip to our local DIY store to buy, amongst other things, tar and paintbrushes. As a very incapable female who has no desire to paint walls, mow lawn or grout bathroom tiles, I happily entrusted the 'capable' man of the house and thought nothing more.

If I still have your attention, just picture the scene 1 week ago. My very capable girlfriend, Mrs G (more on her another time, every woman should have a friend like her), spotted the now rampant and taking-over-the-house-kind-of damp and wondered why we'd done nothing about our leaking washing machine, as it was OBVIOUS TO HER that it was the source of our problem. I guess that the additional clues - split skirting boards, cracked door frames and damp kitchen floor tiles would also have been an indication that the problem had nothing to do with the roof, but as I've said before, I am in no way a house expert and therefore not qualified to comment.

Roll forward to 3 days ago, when a very lovely chap from our buildings insurance company paid a visit, only to declare that the industrial heaters would have to be installed for 3 weeks and that the kitchen tiles would have to be pulled up to allow the concrete to dry out, for a further 5 weeks.

Now I'm a great believer in giving people a second chance but I also insist that people admit when they don't know what they're doing and/or they've cocked up. Mr H has since confessed to not knowing very much at all about plumbing (??!!) and has promised to stick to his chosen field of expertise - WOODWORK! After a panicky email to the MIL to double-check her son's references, I was informed that I should not be doubting him because he did get an 'A' in GCSE Woodwork after all. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that takes motherly love to a whole new level. Hmph.