Saw-"itis"

My husband, Val can build cabinets, cook four star meals, replace car brakes and do a mean load of laundry. I didn’t marry into money but by my standards; I hit the husband jackpot. Now ladies, before you become Kelly green with envy, let me explain. Val is an only child, which in his case, is a birth defect. The medical term is called selfishness-itis. The disease is highly incurable and symptoms begin to appear in early childhood.


Val and I recently bought a home and I staked my claim on one of the bedrooms. It is a cozy room with Pepto pink walls, brown shag carpet and curtains that were violently attacked by cats. Despite its initial, shoddy appearance, this space is the future home of my reading/writing room. My decorative vision includes one desk, one daybed and all the books I can fit into its four corners. It will be a place to relax and call my own.

Enter, my husband.

Val is chock full of ideas to help me decorate this space. He suggests building a unique, corner desk, stripes along the walls, one yellow accent wall and words written in cursive, Times New Roman with green clovers, blue diamonds and purple horseshoes. I swallow hard and simply state,“I want the room calm and soothing.”
There is one idea that I’ve held onto though, he offered to build my desk. Val sketches a plain desktop held onto the wall with brackets. To cover the wood edges, he suggests a basic, wood trim. The desk will be simple, sentimental and above all inexpensive.

Armed with a plan, we pace the lumber aisles of Home Depot. The wood is stacked high like pancakes on planked pallets. Fingers outstretched, I run my palm along each top sheet, checking for bows and knots. I choose a piece of birch for the desktop. It is the color of beach sand and is perfectly level. Val nods his approval. He recommends a trim with an elegant, leaf inlay. I nod my approval. I waffle between a painted or stained wood finish so I proceed to the paint department to speak with Ryan, the paint guy.

—Yes, I know him by name. He loves chili and is a culinary student by day. DIY Commandment #31-Know Thy Paint Guy.—

Anticipating coffee ring stains and pen streaks, Ryan mixes up a crisp, white paint and primer semi-gloss. He swears, on his orange apron, that the glossy finish will always wipe clean.

With the paint tucked firmly under my arm, I look for Val. I find him in the tool aisle.

“Babe, I need a saw to cut your desk and trim pieces,” he says.

“Can’t one of the guys here just cut it for us? It’s cheaper.”

Val does not respond. Instead, his face contorts into obtuse angles and his eyelids shutter like vintage cameras. Is he having a seizure? Should I shove a spoon in his mouth so he doesn’t bite his tongue in two? But with one look into his eyes and I can see that it is NOT a life threatening emergency. It’s just the –“selfishness-itis” completely short circuiting my husband’s brain. Under the guise of building a desk, I realize the true purpose this trip.

The saws are on display, lined up like foster children awaiting their forever home. There is Ryobi, DeWalt, Porter-Cable, and Milwaukee. Val introduces me to them all. One saw has a sliding fence, the other a laser guide, a diamond blade, a place for your iPod, underwear and secret compartment for your Twinkies.

“If you let me buy a saw, I can make a toy chest for Ian, a platform bed frame or bookcases,” he says as he counts off the projects on his fingers. The pitch in his voice heightens as the list grows. I prepare for him to say that the fate of mankind rests on the purchase of this saw. But just as I start to say “no” his closing arguments include how “I” desperately need this desk for my barren, little room with its cat curtains and 1950’s carpet.

In the end, the –itis won. Although I’m not sure whose selfishness should take the blame?

So with great pleasure and a spoonful of guilt, I welcome our new addition to the family, Ryobi Compound Miter Saw -Gordon (Twinkies not included).

~h