Chairman

Fear not; nobody has put me in charge of anything. But I do have my uses around the house. I put a clear coat of protective finish on the antique radio I bought a couple of weeks ago.* I installed new wire shelving in the laundry room, which means I don't have to hang my freshly laundered shirts on the shower curtain rod.


And I reupholstered my dining room chairs. My chronically sinus-clogged cat had sneezed on the old seat covers and ruined them. Spot cleaning had no effect. I got the idea that maybe I could take the fabric off the seats and put them in the washer. Turns out I can do that but that it doesn't clean cat snot out of them.


Who? Me?
That brought up Plan B: Buying fabric and making new seat covers. This involved doing something that few heterosexual men do voluntarily -- going to a fabric store.** I saw some other men when I visited Jo-Ann Fabrics but none who had not obviously been dragged there against their will by a woman.

Alone without a guide and not even sure how to explain what I was looking for, I had brought one of the snot-stained swaths with me. If all else failed, I could point and grunt "want new one." And some kind employee -- female, of course -- would look at me with pity and point me in the right direction.

Which is exactly how it happened. Fabric stores sell much more than fabric and since I hadn't brought a GPS unit with me, if I had tried wandering through the aisles myself, you might have had to send search teams to rescue me. So when I saw the customer service desk, I did another unmanly thing and went straight there and asked directions, basically pointing at the material in my hand and grunting, "want new one."

They didn't have anything like the pattern I had so I went with the one I guessed would look best -- not to mention one that I guessed might best hide future "snot rockets" from the cat. The one I chose turned out to be thicker than ideal for the task and close inspection will reveal my less than artful job. But if you come visit, you're going to be polite enough not to notice, right?

Otherwise, I'm sending you to the fabric store to buy replacements.


* It's generally not advised to alter antiques but the wood in places had dulled and dried and I didn't buy the radio as an investment; I bought it to admire.
** To make up for the fabric store trip I got to go to Lowe's to buy my new staple gun!