Friday night: I cleared out everything in one third of the basement, and Gary put together one half of one set of shelves. Though I tried to help, I couldn't wrestle the metal beams together the way he did.
Saturday: We both hurt a good deal. We agreed we should take three months cleaning up the basement. So, that new timeline gives us until the end of March. Wait - March is his Birthday Month. Well, end of April then.
Sunday morning: Gary got out of bed, stood up, and his back went out.
So, then we had this conversation.
Gary: I should NEVER have put together those shelves without wearing my back brace. I am an idiot. What was I thinking?
Me: I was at the end of my strength yesterday toting all that stuff upstairs, and I barely made a dent in the pile. I think it's clear we need to hire this out.
Me: Angie's list seems to always have deals on man hours of labor. We could just -
Me: Why on earth not?
Gary: BECAUSE WE ARE NOT PATHETIC.
Gary doesn't realize it, but he said that while gripping his cane, all bound up in two back braces like the Michelin Man.
Later on I began comparing him to Mom. In addition to denying his infirmities, he was pulling a very Mom move: using his cane to drag a heavy piece of furniture across the floor while insisting he didn't want any help. SO Mom. QUELLE Mom.
I suppose I could subcontract out my part of the work on the downlow. I am happy to admit I am pathetic.