When I lived with Gram, I didn't want us to be completely dependent on her son to do minor repairs around her home. And to be honest, he was busy enough that if we had relied on him completely for these things, we'd have spent a lot of time with things not functioning. So I learned to do a variety of home repairs. I can replace the flushing mechanism in a toilet, although maybe not some of the fancier new ones that are coming out now. But I can change light switches, and in my time, I replaced the hand-crank mechanisms that opened the windows in Gram's house on more than one occasion. I am by no means an expert, but I know a flat head from a phillips, and pliers from wrenches, and can use them to remove and replace various screws, nuts, and bolts. You know, the basics.
Before Trent and I were engaged, I went to one of those gigantic home improvement stores with my friend Jill. I can't even remember what it was that she needed to get, but I noticed something really funny and interesting. Men apparently like to see women shopping for hardware. Jill pretty much knew what she was looking for, as I recall, but at least one or two gentlemen spotted us from each of the aisles that we were passing, and asked us if we needed any help. Jill told them that she knew what she was looking for, but thanks so much anyway. After offering their assistance if we needed help finding anything, they went back to what they were doing. The same song and dance would be repeated in the next aisle. And some of them even worked there!
During our engagement, Trent needed to go to Ye Olde Home Improvement Castle to purchase a power drill. He asked if I wanted to ride along with him, and I decided it was a good opportunity to spend some time together. I tagged along as he looked at the available tools and made his purchase. After we got in the car and he was driving me home, I had to ask him a question. "Did I see right? Does that drill have a built-in level? That's really cool!" Trent looked at me, mouth hanging open with surprise. "I love you so much!" he said. "And from now on, you're never allowed to go to a hardware store without me. I don't want any other guys knowing you like this stuff!"
We are apartment dwellers, so we really don't need to worry about doing home repairs. But every so often, one does need a spare key or some duct tape or something. And Trent knows that I won't be complaining about going to the hardware store. I'll enjoy seeing different new stuff, and breathing in the fragrance of fresh lumber. And I'll enjoy having a roll of purple duct tape or a newly cut key that has a dash of girly personality. I am, after all, still a lady.