A few questions from a discussion held in my office yesterday. Are all husbands legally bound to delay DIY projects for as long as humanly possible? Is there a charter that stipulates it must take at least three years from buying new knobs for a wardrobe to actually screwing them into place?

Is this the domestic cache 22? She keeps nagging him to fit that new mirror in the bathroom because he keeps putting it off and he keeps putting if off because she keeps nagging him.

While I'm never likely to find myself in the position of being a husband faced with the prospect of DIY, I feel I should get some answers beforehand, just in case.

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I don't know. I "empowered" myself and now I do most of the household type stuff. What does stop women from going to Home Depot and taking a class or two, or buying a book? (Kids? Why not leave them with the ol' husband? Better yet, give him a choice: You do it, or I do it and you stay with the boys. Guess which he chooses?)

Granted, there are some things I won't touch. But I don't nag. That's because the stuff I won't touch, Rain Dog won't either. (Like renting a wet saw to install tile. Neither of us knows what we're doing and we'd probably hack off a finger, or waste all the tile.) In those cases, we hire someone or get a friend who knows what he's doing.

Occasionally I will hear that something is not getting done because he's not "ready" to do it. I have no idea what that means. Probably something to do with his fantasy baseball team's hot streak, because oddly, he does more house/yard type work when he's losing. Which is quite a bit lately. Anyway, I don't nag. Just doesn't solve any useful purpose and creates tension between us. Nothing either of us needs, especially with that fantasy losing streak!
What's wrong with the old knobs? ;)
In my house, it's likely that the almost-4-year-old unscrewed them himself, used them in some "construction" project, and lost them. ;)
I dig holes. I dig then when and where I'm told.

And I haul dirt and debris.

Inside, well, let's just say the last thing anyone wants is me with a tool in my hand. But hole-digging? That I can handle. (When and where, dear?)
I'm like Christa. I grew with a mom who had a list of DIY stuff my dad had to do, and she would remind him (=nagging). I don't want to be that person.

So I do it myself. I just tiled the bathroom; I already finished our basement with drywall, electrical and plumbing. I feel very feminist. Though somehow, I think my hubby is getting the best deal here :-)
I'm impressed and, I'll admit, a little disappointed that no one here's suffering this cliché. Perhaps it's limited to my office or, my alternative theory for the writers here, the procrastination common to the trade means the urge to avoid writing is often stronger than the urge to avoid putting some shelves up.
Oh Vincent, don't say 'nobody'. I'm just not talking unless you can ensure that Evil Kev won't read it.

Let's put it this way: One of the funniest things I ever read in an author interview was when they talked about buying an old house and then discovering neither they nor their partner were DIY-ers.

I completely understand.
I'm fortunate, because of my husband's job we live in a place where university employees will show up and fix whatever is broken. All he has to do is call his friend in the maintenance department. I'm secretly dreading the day we move out of here because quite frankly we're both useless when it comes to home repairs.

As far as replacing things in the home, remodeling and such, it could fall down around us before my husband would agree that it needs done, so I just go ahead and change things and eventually he notices. Right now that's limited to sheets, shower curtains and such. If he's lucky I get his opinion before I decide we need new furniture, but not always. It's usually easier to just tell him we're going shopping and yes, I'm sure we can afford it.
I always knew people who had family members with technical skills, but I come from a clan with tool boxes that started life as something else and that only contain an adjustable wrench and a set of flat head screw drivers (with the words"Vote for Smith" on the handles). Taking on my first fix-it project was more a matter of survival than curiosity. The clothes dryer stopped heating when I was a teen ager and there was no money to fix or replace it. I took apart the back and stretched the broken heating coil, replacing the failed section with a piece of wire hanger. It worked for another year and the house didn't catch fire so I was hooked.

Now I do most of the wood related and garden projects around the house and my husband takes care of things the use electricity. We cross paths on big projects like replacing the porch decking or laying flagstone in the yard. I never understood the honey-do list, but I know it works for others.
LOL, Karyn! What a budding young MacGyver you were.
God, I loved that show. One year at work, I even created a volunteer crew called "the MacGyvers" to run around and fix the bits of moveable parts in scenes along our Haunted Halloween trail. They all had tool belts with duct tape, staple guns, needle-nose plyers, and baling wire. Of all the volunteers they had the most covetted positions in the park, except for the guy who got to wear a Gilly suit and come screaming out of the tall grass along the creek. EVERY body wanted that job. Those were the days!
Karen will you adopt me?

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