I am not very handy. I can do stuff with tools, but more along the lines of “Hey, can you take this ______ and rip out that _____. In other words, I can destroy things. I worked for my uncle’s construction company when I was 15. I managed to get a piece of aluminum in my eye from cutting fascia and soffit. I later hit my thumb so many times with a hammer I launched it across a parking lot and outcursed the other construction workers, which is like out whitetrashing Miley Cyrus. Nearly impossible.
I remember growing up, my dad actually was the general contractor on his own house. In other words, he built the place largely himself, and with the help of family and my generally useless fraternity labor (myself included). He would tell me to grab a tool, I would meander over to the toolbox and stare at it for minutes until he muttered under his breath, came over, and grabbed it himself. I would then stare off into space and imagine I was a bald eagle or ninja until given a menial task like picking up nails or moving blocks. Thus, the owning of a condo later in life.
Fast forward to now. My fiance is perhaps the queen of home improvement. She runs laps around me in terms of fixing, building, or upgrading everything from electrical wiring to carpentry. She tiled a fireplace, cutting the tiles with a wet saw, mounting the pieces, and putting two different kinds of grout when done. My job? I ran upstairs and got paper towels wet mostly. To be fair, I also got dry paper towels out, got alcohol at the store, ran a shop vac and cleaned out buckets. In other words, other than buying booze, my skill set is still that of a distracted child, just one with a deep voice and chest hair. I also realize my testicles are basically a prop. Anyone need help duct taping anything?