Ikea provides endless entertainment for the oppressed housewife types of this country. Our men have this vision in their head that they are something secretly akin to Jesus the carpenter, and so they demand leadership of constructing their new PAX closet organizers. I'm a silent fox, I'd like to think... so I let him order me around for a bit, just coyly correcting him when I knew and was FURIOUS about the fact that he couldn't just follow the goddamned directions that Ikea was kind enough to provide. We ended up, too many hours later, with a half backwards rickety structure that we then had to carry through the hall and into the closet, because he decided it would be smart to construct most of it in the living room. However, we make it to the closet only to discover that we cannot lay it flat on the floor to get the back on it because there is too much of his clutter shit in the way. So of course, he wants to stand it erect to put the back on that way. In my pretty little head, I'm thinking, "Ok, sweetheart. This is a flimsy rectangle. The next piece well put on will find the right angles more steadfast, but right now we're in danger of--" He starts lifting, interrupting my thought and forcing me into instant action trying to keep the angles square. He's huffing (he sounds like Darth Vadar when he breathes, it's disgusting) and pushing, and I hear a little crack. "STOP STOP STOP!", I yell; and I'm not quite sure how he managed to ignore that pleading, but he did. The cracking because louder... and when I saw the screws completely pulled out, and the shitty Ikea particle board completely ruined, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. No more supportive housewife. "You broke it, sir. You fucking broke it." He, of course, is looking at the WRONG part of it, and looks at me like I'm wrong. At this point, I know I shouldn't say anything else, and I simply point to the entire side of the structure that is no longer attached to the rest, and leave the closet to go make lunch.
I think he just ignores help. I don't know how he manages to run a business, because asking for and listening to help is necessary. I now understand how we got lost on the way to that Jethro Tull concert last night. His GPS told him "Exit on the right" every quarter mile for a mile before the exit... and he skipped the exit. It doesn't make you any less of a man if you listen to the GPS, damnit.