My wife, bless her little tool belt, has always been a do-it-yourselfer, but lately she has been taping all those wonderful shows on the Discovery and the Learning Channels, like Home Matters, Lynnette Jennings and Interior Motives, not to mention Gimme Shelter, Home Time and Home Savvy. She takes avid notes in her little "home decorating" notebook; she cuts out hundreds of do-it-yourself project plans from the newspaper, and, on Sundays, she scans the ads from Home Depot and Hechinger's for bargains before she reads the editorials. Sometimes I think I married Tim Allen in drag (just kidding, dear, in case you're reading this).

I arrived home with bottle in hand, my heart racing in fear and anticipation. The place was an absolute mess. It literally looked like a cyclone had hit us. Sawdust, splattered paint, nails, staples, and dozens of tools lay everywhere. Yes, another do-it-yourself project was clearly in full swing.

"I'm up here, dear. In the bathroom."

Sure enough, she was in the upstairs bathroom, paint roller in hand, just finishing covering the ceiling with some kind of mustard yellow color, which she had dabbed with a dark stain to give it that "antique look." There was spilled paint on the tile floor, the sink, the commode, the mirror and the bathtub. Now I know why she wanted the Goof Off.

"Um, hi, hon, it looks...nice."

"Thanks. I've been working hard all day on it."

"It looks like it."

I noticed that she had taken the doors off the vanity.

"Uh, what are you planning to do with the vanity?," I asked, dreading the answer.

"Oh, I saw this great idea on TV where they stripped the finish off the wood and "antiqued" everything - only I had a little trouble. The doors are downstairs in the garage- you might want to take a look."

I figured I needed a belt of something strong, like some Remy XO before I headed down to the workbench. When I turned on the lights, I found the doors in four pieces, the paint stripped off and some gross, streaky brown stain in its place.

"Um....had a little trouble with the doors, dear?" I said, returning to the scene of the crime. I noticed Cindy was chiseling out a hole in the wall.

"Oh, yeah, they kind of broke on me. But what do you think of this - I'm going to put a new light right here."

"Have you run the cable?"

"No, I thought you would do that. How hard can it be, anyway?"

"No problem. Sounds like an easy weekend project. By the way, what is that sound? Do you have the washing machine on?"

"No, when I took the doors off the vanity the pipe felt a little wet, so I thought I'd tighten it a bit. It..well...kinda broke and before I could shut the water off, we had ...ummm....sort of a little....flood. That's the pump in the basement. You want to take a look at it?"

"Holy s%#*t!"

"Now, dear, it was no big deal. Those papers you had in those boxes were old anyway."

"What boxes??!?!? You don't mean our tax returns that I store in the basement?"

"Well, yes, but we never get audited."

"Holy s%$##@t!!"

I noticed that she was currently up on a ladder slapping plaster over chicken wire mounted to a kind of upside-down flower box nailed over the tub where the shower curtain rods used to be.

"Gosh, honey, you sure are a busy bee. What are you doing now?"

"Faux stone. It's the latest rage. Don't you like it?"

"I can't say I have ever seen it before in a bathroom. The hotel I stayed in in Sante Fe last year used that decor in the rooms, though. I'm sure it will look nice."

I headed downstairs for another belt of Remy. Suddenly the lights flickered and then went out.

"What happened up there?"

"I accidentally cut the electrical cable with the saw."

"Holy s&^&$t!!!"

The breaker had alredy been tripped at the circuit box. I headed upstairs with the kick-ass flashlight I save for just these occasions. She was sitting on the commode, sobbing lightly.

"I know you think I'm just a stupid woman who doesn't know what she is doing," she whimpered, her voice filled with genuine emotion. But I'm trying so hard to make this place look nice for you. Sometimes in my eagerness to get it done, I just try too hard, I guess."

"Now. Now. You are doing a great job, dear. I love that wonderful lighted mirror-glass bookcase you put together in the living room, and the dining room repainting project looks great! I love what you did with the family room, and the upstairs guest room is gorgeous! The new hardwood floors are splendid and all the new works of art you have been collecting make the house look so much warmer. And, oh yes, the table you made for us downstairs from those $10 iron supports looks like a professional pice of furniture. To the contrary from what you think, I like what you are doing. Don't worry about the cable, I can fix it."

"Thanks, dear, I'm sorry about the mess. By the time you get back from New York this wekend it will all be cleaned up and finished."

Suddenly I realized that I was blessed with a very creative talent. Our house does look 1000% better since she started with the improvement projects. I am a lucky man.