Abby was almost three weeks old the day Dave decided to screen in the porch. We lived in base housing in Hawaii, with a nice little lanai on the back. The trouble was, even though the weather was perpetually gorgeous, the flies were terrible. Sitting outside was inevitably a short-lived endeavor.
So one day, with a newborn baby snoozing in the Pack-n-Play and a wife recovering from a C-section, my husband struck up the following conversation.
Dave: This porch would be so much nicer with a screen!
Me: Yeah, that would be nice!
That was the whole conversation.
The next thing I knew, he was scrounging through the junk drawer for his measuring tape. After a few minutes huddled over a legal pad with a calculator, ruler, and pencil, he was in the car, off to the hardware store.
I couldn’t tell you how he did it, even though I sat there and watched the whole thing go down. But by the end of the day, we had a screen hanging around our porch. It was awesome. And by that, I mean, I was literally in awe.
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