In April, in the middle of all the remodel hell, we had a visit from Father-in-Law. Father in Law (FIL) inspires an instant return in Husband to his teenage angry rebellion stage and some how, the combination of FIL and me, his brand new wife caused Husband to stupidly agree to the Kitchen Bet of 2006.
It started innocently enough, I was complaining about timelines and Husband blurted out that he could finish the kitchen by July 2006. And then we ended up here:
ME: I bet you can’t.
HUSBAND: I bet I can.
ME: What’s on the table, what you betting?
HUSBAND: If I win, you buy me a flat screen TV.
HUSBAND: Fine. What do you win?
ME: If I win, you have to get a Vasectomy!
Silence. From Husband and FIL. For quite awhile. And yes, they both subconsciously reached to protect the 'area'.
I should probably mention here that neither Husband nor I wanted children and yet, like all men, he was not rushing in to the doc to “snip” away his ability to have children. Why, I’d ask. Why not get it taken care off if you don’t want kids? He says that it’s because someday, maybe his sperm will cure cancer. Yes, he says that. He doesn’t want a vasectomy because his sperm will cure cancer. I’m still confused how this will happen, the curing of cancer with his sperm. How will the doctors know it will cure cancer? How will they find out? Will some accidentally get on some cancer and cure it and...? Sorry, SQUIRREL. (And ew.)
Anyway, the Kitchen Bet was accepted and we were off. Kitchen was torn out. Fancy appliances were purchased. Cupboards were purchased and installed. There were lots of fights. Lots and lots of compromises. Lots of laughs, mostly me falling down in stitches when husband and his Scottish slang got going. It’s hard not to laugh when your loved one calls you Bampot, a Numpty or a Doolally and you have no idea what it is. During this time, everything we ate was cooked in the microwave that lived in the laundry room or eaten out somewhere cheap. The day we bought a small toaster oven was like Christmas. Dishes were washed in the guest bathtub, hunched over the edge and dried in the non-working sink. I was so ready for it to be over.
And then, it was July 1, 2006 and the kitchen was most definitely NOT finished. The bet was over and he had lost.
Or had he?
Now, the one concession I agreed to with the deadline was the countertop. The countertop was not in by July 1, 2006. It was due a few weeks later. I agreed to extend the deadline 24 hours after installation to allow him to add the strip of molding around the base of the island and at the top of the countertop. He didn’t make that deadline. The bet was over and he lost.
Husband would like me to stipulate that he said 24 man-hours from installation of said countertop. I disagree. We sold our house November 2012 and those pieces are STILL NOT INSTALLED and therefore, I won the bet and he lost!
Husband still disagrees. He bought himself his own big flat screen TV but still insists he said he had 24 man-hours to complete the kitchen. I say that buying TV showed he knows he lost. Because he did!
Regardless, here we are, six years later, about to remodel our kitchen and Husband still has all his swimmers. I want my winnings. I want my Vasectomy!