It's been decades since I wrote with a specific request.
This year, it's imperative that I beg.
I've been good.
Santa, please, please bring me a handyman for Christmas.
Doesn't have to be wrapped.
Not talking about the James Taylor "fix broken hearts" kind of handyman.
I need a real live handyman!
For a beautiful long time, I was married to an extraordinary guy who happened to be beyond handy.
I got spoiled.
It's been eight years now - my drought without a handyman in my life.
I do have men in my life.
My oldest son and closest in proximity (next door), the most un-handy of all. He makes up for it by being unbelievably generous and a ready, willing gamer. (not professional, but close)
My second son, close to three-thousand miles away. Neither handy, a gamer, or willing - but also generous and hilarious!
My son-in-law, arguably the handiest among my males, is also the most stressed and the busiest.
My adopted son, again not noticeably handy, but he makes up for with regular love notes to his adopted mom.
My surgeon friend is able - I guess you could say handy - but manages to keep himself above nuts and bolts the majority of the time. He does create masterpiece salads.
There's more . . .
My friend, David - not sure how handy he is (he just broke his foot in several places blowing leafs), but he's my go-to techie and I don't want to jeopardize that source.
My other friend, Renato - again, awkward with a wrench perhaps, but a wizard in the garden and he shares blooms and bulbs and growing-things guidance!
Akex, the gardener - same as Renato.
Gary - my forever bridge partner, moderately handy I presume, but remote and definitely the best card player ever. Need to keep him at the table!
Marty and Bob, anchorman and anesthesiologist, - husbands of my close friends who would willingly, maybe even enthusiastically, let me borrow one or the other for a time, but alas, both come up short in the handyman gene.
Calvin - my rock climbing oldest grandson, another gamer, who I wouldn't disturb from his math path to professorship. Plus, he's got a girlfriend now.
Cash - youngest grandson - in the foreign land of North Carolina like his father, but we have hung pictures, pitched tents, and made fresh orange juice together so there's promise . . .
I have two new grandson-in-law, Austin and Daniel. I have yet to make a decision on their handy-man-ness. Again, there's hope.
Baby Jack - too young and too dang adorable to be anything but the center of attention.
Santa, I need a handyman for Christmas! It's not a long list, but it warrants attention:
Puppy-pushed-through-screens
New screws for 1934 door handles
Broken fan blade
Ballet bar screw loose, coming off wall
Pilot light out in fireplace
Lights to change outside on terrace which requires a ladder. Yes, I could do this one, but am forbidden by all unhandy men above from going anywhere near a ladder.
Oh yeah Santa, I need a windshield replaced.
And one more thing while we're at it, can you please define good?
PS - Here's a piece I wrote during the pandemic about all the tools in my house. So many tools...no handyman!
Gave me a much appreciated giggle! Good luck!
I hope Santa's definition of good is accommodating and, um, flexible. For all our sakes. And I hope you get your handyman. We need them like we need a friend with a truck.
This is hilarious!!! Where are all the handymen? They seem be a dying breed. Do they know how valued they are? I have a funny memory of a geyser erupting in our basement laundry room as we were about to leave for the weekend. What to do? John tried to climb the ladder to stuff a wad of diapers into the downspout but he hates heights, so only got part way up. I did no better. The neighbour's kid was hired, and the job was done and off we went for weekend. We hired that kid many times after. He was worth his weight in gold!! 😁
Where have all the good guys gone who knew how to fix everything, even our wounded hearts? Ladders are DEFINITELY off limits. Hope your wish comes true.