A few false starts, and then I felt like Rosie the Riveter, ready for anything

Ican still imagine the exchange in the local emergency room:

“Ma’am, why do you have a shoe on your hand?”

“That’s precisely why I’m here.”

To keep it brief, my daughter’s brand-new shoe lost its central rhinestone on the first wear. Luckily she brought the wayward gem home, and I tackled the repair with gusto and some Krazy Glue. It seemed like a straightforward fix.

Following the package directions, I applied the glue to the stone, positioned it correctly, and pressed my finger on the stone for the requisite 30 seconds. The rest of my fingers held tightly to the shoe from the inside.

I didn’t notice that a tiny amount of Krazy Glue had gotten on my index finger, so when I released my grip, the rhinestone stayed put, but so did my finger — inside the shoe.

Krazy indeed.

I did my best to forge ahead with the evening routine, ignoring the shoe stuck to my hand. Every now and again, I gave it a gentle tug. Eventually, it came free — with a very small patch of my finger attached. My fingerprint may have been permanently altered.

Such are the perils of DIY.

There was the time I needed to knock in a sharp nail poking up from the carpet while upstairs, and the hammer was two flights below. PRO TIP: Don’t use that (handy) deodorant can in place of a conventional hammer. Those cans may look and feel solid, but their contents are pressurized and they’re far from puncture-proof. The results were not pretty, but pretty funny if you ask my kids.

I’ve seen do-it-yourself videos where construction gurus spend a productive afternoon building an entire bathroom from plumbing to tiles to fixtures and paint. They make it look easy, too. “Just take the transfluxer and ratchet it firmly to the....” It’s just like a traditional Amish barn raising where the community bands together to build a complete barn, foundation to shingles, from dawn to dusk. It must be really satisfying to pull your horse & buggy into your driveway at the end of a tiring workday and know that you just built a complete room.

I know that I could never undertake any job that complicated. The last time I felt like a DIY pro was when I decided to paint. Painting an entire room is too ambitious for me, but repainting just the white trim around doors and windows seemed manageable. I even got to wear some of those old shirts/skirts that I’d saved “just in case I decide to paint.” (If you try this, just remember to warn, with flashing neon lights, all the dark suit-wearing occupants of the home about the wet paint around every doorway.)

I also find it nearly impossible to find anything on my list in our local Home Depot. I watch contractors confidently roll huge dollies of drywall, two-by-fours, pipes, paint, and more. Meanwhile, I walk in circles looking for a specific screw/nut/bolt or light bulb. I usually end up in the gardening section, leaving with a plant so the trip wasn’t a total loss. Or perhaps another tube of Krazy Glue… just in case.

Understandably, I’m not the biggest proponent of do-it-yourself. We have a few handymen that we rely upon, but every so often a small job remains undone for long enough that I decide to take up the screwdriver myself. Over the years, my services have been called upon to crawl under tables and tighten wobbly legs, grout small patches of tub tile, caulk (and recaulk and recaulk) seams along the kitchen counters, and replace hinges, handles, and toilet seats.

So when the new bathroom mirror stood leaning against the wall for over a month, I figured: How hard could it be? I’ve hung picture frames and curtain rods without incident. I soon learned that hanging a heavy mirror is an entirely different can of worms. This job calls for a wall anchor, and for that, you need a drill, an extension cord, and working knowledge of how to fit the drill bit into the drill.

A few false starts, and then I felt like Rosie the Riveter, ready for anything. Wielding a loaded drill is a powerful (and noisy) experience. After drilling the single hole necessary for the anchor, I was like a child with a new box of crayons. I had the urge to drill more holes, somewhere, anywhere. Luckily, I contained that urge and finished the job.

For a DIY pro like me, the rest was easy.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 931)