My home was built in 1975. Which was a GREAT year. Except for the unenlightened kitchen architecture.
Here is a snapshot of the food prep area of my kitchen: a "u" shaped configuration of cabinets. The attached island, "peninsula" if you will, was finished off with a large set cabinets hanging above them (immediately behind me.)
Cabinets which were, for all practical purposes, a huge, PITA obstruction. I hated the fact that it divided the kitchen into two small, poorly lit halves which prevented the flow of light, vision and air.
Plus, the cabinets' low stature accounted for countless forehead goose eggs, several bleeding cuts, 2 minor concussions and the childrens' premature exposure to a whole slew of swears from the mouths of their dazed and confused parents who had unfortunately just cracked their head on the *@#&(&# cabinet for the billionth time.
So on New Year's Day, in 2009, I decided that the island cabinets needed to go. Bye bye.
If you had seen the Mister's reaction to my announcement, you'd think I was asking him to remove his left gonad instead of an erroneously placed cabinet.
I was *highly* irritated.
But being the good wifey that I am, I kept my mouth shut (because pouting, after all, requires few words.) Instead of harping at him, I would take him to friend's homes where similar poorly thought-out cabinets were removed by wise, intelligent homeowners.
"Look at how wonderfully spacious Debbie's kitchen is," I'd coo. Or, I'd enthuse "can you believe how open Jill's kitchen feels without those cabinets there? I bet it added some great resale value to their home!"
But with this New Year creeping up and the cooing and enthusing getting me nowhere, I decided to change my approach. Time for a little hardball.
After returning home from an evening of drinking wine and visiting with Jill, I remarked to my Mister,
"Jill said that if you aren't up to the task of taking the cabinets down, she'd come over with her sledgehammer. We figure with my power drill and her sledgehammer, we can get those bad boys out in no time flat."
My dear friend Jill is an AWESOME woman and everyone should have a friend like Jill. I love her. She is a gifted home decorator, upgrader and renovator. She rips down shower tile with abandon, and she'll take out and replace huge light fixtures on her own. She even does crazy ass but completely brilliant things like drill an old-fashioned pencil sharpener into her kitchen counter, because she has 5 kids and daycare and they're the only things that work. A move which I plan to replicate, but only on the counter on the office counter and not a kitchen counter.
Did I mention that I love her?
Well, wouldn't you know it, but just by putting the words JILL and SLEDGEHAMMER and POWER DRILL and KITCHEN CABINETS into one little sentence, and the Mister was on the phone not more than 3 minutes later, consulting with my stepdad on the best way to remove the cabinets and when he would be available to come over and help.
Originally, the Mister and I were only going to empty the cabinets ourselves, and then Boppa and the Mister were going to take the cabinets down the next morning.
But looking at those ugly ol' empty cabinets, do you think I could possibly resist the challenge that lay ahead?
So in the spirit of independence, I convinced the Mister that we could totally do it. (I might have added in there that watching him use power tools makes me all hot and bothered, but personally, I think it was the independent spirit speech that hooked him.)
So here's my man using his (my) power drill.
We took off the molding. We undrilled the SIX screws holding the ENTIRE cabinet up. Six not-that-big, unanchored screws. That's all. Not attached to the wall. Not attached to the other cabinets. Just six screws stuck up in the ceiling.
Which completely caught the Mister and I off guard.
The whole thing crashed down. Fortunately, it stayed in one piece. And fortunately, the Mister's finger wound did not require an ER visit.
Afterwards, we had the boys pose with the removed cabinet and power tools. Because boys like stuff like that.
Miles and Keenan are Muscle Men.
Atticus is all, "Holy chita! Did I do that?!?"
And VIOLA! The finished results!
A bright, open, airy space.
So now I can be at my computer desk and see what my little felons are up to in the family room.
I can sit in the family room and spy on the Mister to make sure he isn't downloading illegally obtained MMA/UFC fights from Russian websites.
Which is why, I'm sure, he was opposed to me removing the cabinet in the first place.