The Table

Six or seven years ago, after we’d been in our house a couple of years, we decided that we couldn’t live with the kitchen the way it was any longer.  We embarked on a complete do-it-yourself kitchen renovation, and it nearly ruined our marriage.

We undertook everything, from refinishing the floors to making the countertops.  Of course, when I say that WE did it, I mean that I stood around crying most of the time, telling David what I wanted while he did the hard stuff.  (Okay, I did sand the floors and paint the cabinets, but I’m pretty sure I cried while I did those.)

We pulled out cabinets, removed appliances, tore out countertops, installed new appliances, painted, and ate out a lot for nearly 3 months.  We were both working and had weekends and weeknights to work, so the 2-week renovation took more like 12.  Good times.

We were trying to figure out what to do about an island, and nothing we saw in the stores really suited us.  We were browsing through an antique store one day and found a table that we both loved.  Unfortunately, at over $2,000, the table did not love us.  As we looked at it closely, I said, “Hey, honey.  I bet you could make something like this,” and he agreed.

And that’s when the trouble started.

David built the table, and it’s a great table.  It’s big and it matches our countertops, even though the wood is different.

There’s plenty of storage underneath, and the top of the table lifts up to reveal a storage box.

Pretty neat, huh?  I keep all my party platters and things that take up so much cabinet space in here.

Everything was going great until David started painting the base of the table.  I walked outside and saw that he was painting it baby blue.

Okay, it wasn’t baby blue.  It was battleship gray, but it looked baby blue to me.  For once in my life I didn’t say anything.  (What could I say?)  I just walked back in the house, and I’m sure I started crying.  Because at this point, I was exhausted and tired of living in a construction zone.  The thought of living with a baby blue kitchen island was simply more than I could stand.

David made the mistake of asking what I thought of the table so far, and I made the mistake of answering.

“It looks like a baby blue spaceship,” I sobbed.  “Why not just paint an American flag on the side and launch it?”  And then I went on to say that I had such high hopes for that table and it was just ruined.   I asked what he could possibly be thinking?  Couldn’t he see that is was a disaster?  On and on I went. I couldn’t close my mouth, if you can imagine that.  My head was telling me to be quiet, but my mouth kept going like the Energizer Bunny.  Instead of finding a tactful way of telling David that I didn’t so much care for his color choice, I let loose.

He countered with some mighty unflattering (but true) comments about  several decorating disasters I’d made in the past, and we had ourselves a knock-down-drag-out argument that lasted well into the early morning hours.

Over a table.

We finally went to bed.  Mad.

When I woke up the next day, the table looked worse in the bright sunlight.  It glowed.

Apparently, David thought the same thing, because he later admitted that the base should be black.  By day’s end, the table looked exactly like it should’ve in the first place.

We got over our argument and finished the kitchen, and we have enjoyed that table as much as anything in the room.  It’s a convenient place to eat.  It’s a great place for me to grade papers and do my lesson plans because I can spread everything out.  It’s the perfect place to wrap presents.  And it even serves as a place for toddlers to play.

That’s Small Fry tying his best to find a place to climb on.  Or maybe he’s going to put some diet coke in that sippy cup, which wouldn’t surprise me since that’s what he sees his mama drink all day long.

Here’s Tater Tot when he was little.  (We had a lot more empty space before Small Fry and all the baby paraphernalia came back out!)

Needless to say, the kitchen was the last renovation project we’ve worked on together, which is probably one of the reasons we’re still married.

That and the fact that David worships the quicksand I walk on.

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kelley
    Jun 02, 2010 @ 08:28:31

    Oh! I love that table! I love it when you can see something and think, “We could make that…” : )

    Reply

  2. JLI
    Jun 02, 2010 @ 08:57:22

    You quoted Steel Magnolias. Enough said. 🙂

    Reply

  3. Quirky is a Compliment
    Jun 04, 2010 @ 10:30:15

    What a fabulous table! I love the lift up storage! Tell David he did a wonderful job.

    Tony and I get around the project angst by agreeing early on that I am the boss, and he’s just the physical labor. I have the planning and the decorating and the spatial reasoning skills, and he’s good at following through when I say, “Here, hold this”. (That’s not a slam against his manly man-ness…it’s just how it worked out. I build, he takes care of the finances, and never the two shall interfere with the other).

    I’m glad you were able to get through it though, marriage intact and good table to boot. Now you’ve got me thinking, “Hmmm….I bet I could build that”.

    Reply

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