The fact that I’m sitting here typing a blog entry is proof enough that I have made it through my day thus far without my head exploding. But I promise you, I came close this morning.
The cabinet installers arrived around 8:30 or 9 and quickly set to work. As I’ve mentioned before, I like any hired help that shows up anywhere close to on time and sets to work in a cheerful, friendly manner. Especially if they seem somewhat competent. Julie and I continued our little morning routine, coloring in the coloring books, folding laundry, waving to the kids waiting for the school bus in our front yard. Who knows why, but our front yard is the bus stop, and since it entertains Julie, I’m more than fine with it.
A little later, installer guy calls me in and points out a problem. It is a problem that really didn’t surprise me all that much, as the installer’s supervisor had pointed out the problem when he came to double-check the kitchen-designer’s work. However, the kitchen designer – Bob from Home Depot – had promised, guaranteed, and sworn up and down in three different languages that it would work out just fine and had refused to change the cabinet order to suit the installers. So, no huge surprise when, in fact, the cabinets intended to go over the windows turned out to be too tall to fit. Many annoying details ensued, involving who said what when, how much it was going to cost to make the changes, and most importantly….how all this is going to affect our timeline. ARGH! A phone call to Joe helped reassure me that I was making the right decision, and plans have been laid.
We’ve re-ordered the cabinets to get ones that will fit. Three weeks. THREE MORE WEEKS! Yes, I’m yelling. Three more weeks of waiting till I can put everything back where it belongs in my kitchen and start cranking out nice, yummy homemade meals for my family to enjoy.
To be honest, I will be able to do some cooking well before then. The installers will still be able to put in all the base cabinets and the upper cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. The Silestone guy will still be able to measure for my countertops later this week. The plumbers will be able to plumb and the electrician will be able to finish most of his wiring – just not the exciting under-cabinet lights. I will be able to get some plywood to use as temporary countertops as planned, and the sink and stove and fridge will all be hooked back up and life WILL go on. I just won’t have any place to keep my dishes and dry goods and all the stuff that normally goes in the cabinets. But we’ll figure it out.
I did talk to Bob-the-designer’s boss this morning to make sure he knew what was going on. When Bob-the-designer called back later this afternoon and tried to act all smooth like everything was okay, I ripped him a nice, large new one. I wasn’t planning on going spastic – catch more flies with honey and all that – but I just couldn’t help myself when I heard his creepy salesman every-thing’s-wonderful-and-I’m-taking-credit voice.
And the installer worked dilligently all afternoon, made significant progress in the areas where he could. He promised to come back first thing in the morning to install knobs and doors and finish up the last couple of base cabinets. He even left his tools in my kitchen, which proves to me that I didn’t scare him away for good with the steam that I’m pretty sure that was shooting out of my ears when he explained the situation to me this morning. Not to mention the very-real vein on my forehead that pops out and turns purple when I get angry.
Still, I needed a bit of a break. Julie asked to watch her video – one of the DVDs that Uncle Dave brought with him from Korea for her birthday – and I agreed, knowing that it would give me a half hour to chill out and decide whether I have it in me to take her to the park this afternoon or not. I rationalize her watching this silly cartoon by telling myself that since it’s all spoken in Korean, I’m exposing her to the language so that maybe some day if she wants to learn it, she’ll have an easier time hearing and speaking the sounds that I as an english-speaker can’t.
Oh – and one more thing. I have to share. Remember we went out to dinner at the hamburger/malt joint the other night? Well, I chatted with the waiter and explained that Julie has food allergies, sorry for the restrictions I was about to impose. I was very careful to ask what was in the burgers – some do have dairy or wheat-based fillers. I was very careful to ask that they wipe down the grill before cooking hers so that it wouldn’t be contaminated by other people’s cheese or the butter they use to fry them in. When the first one came out, it was on a bun and I sent it back explaining that she couldn’t eat it because it was contaminated with wheat. Out comes burger #2 and Julie ate maybe 1/3 of it because she was busy eating the fries and ketchup and the corn I had brought from home.
We were up with an inconsolably screaming baby from 1-2:30 that night. I sat there internally cursing the waiter, the cook, and most importantly myself for feeding her contaminated food. I should have known the minute I saw that bun on the first burger that it was not going to be okay. I was too busy slurping at my chocolate-banana milkshake to just say “forget it, we’ll feed her at home.” But we won’t be going back to Snuffy’s again any time soon.
The good news is that last night we went out to Pho 79 and ate our delicious #8 pho with lean rare beef (no tripe, no brisket, no soft tendon, thank you). The people there always treat us wonderfully, the prices are shockingly low, and Julie can slurp all the noodles she wants without any of us having to worry about losing sleep.