A Spy Always Try To Make It Look Easy

Call me popcorn-ceiling scraper. That's what I did most of yesterday. AFTER Ranger Buddy left, things went smoothly ;-). You see, he decided to start without me while I went off to get TOOLS. His idea of doing anything--just do it. So, he climbed on a ladder with some piddly-ass putty thing and start knocking and scraping.

I arrived, saw him on said ladder, a cloud of white dust swirling around where his head was, and screamed out of the truck, "STOP!" Then sighed. Men just don't listen. Ever. I had spent the better part of lunch telling him what I'd planned to do and did any of my words register? Apparently not.

I climbed out of the truck and took the bag of goodies with me to the garage. "Get off the ladder and move it, please," I said. "If you'd just wait and let me do this my way, the popcorn will come off easier."

"It's just scraping the ceiling," he observed. "I have it under control already."

Under control was a man standing in front of me as if he had been dipping his head and shoulder into a flour bin. Under control the floor of the garage with white yucky stuff everywhere. Did he hear me tell him I needed to cover the floor up first? Apparently not.

I handed him the bag of plastic drapes. It looked like a giant sandwich bag all rolled up. I bought four rolls.

"Why didn't you get a 20X20 piece?" RB asked. "That way we could just roll it out once."

"Because," I explained patiently, "It's hard to throw away a giant piece of plastic with white stuff all on top of it since it won't fit into a garbage bag."

Here is a man's way of thinking. "But we could just roll it right up and dump it into the back of the truck and then drive to the jobsite and throw it away. What's the hard part?"

Here is a woman's way of thinking. "I prefer to just put four smaller pieces into garbage bags, secure them, and place them in front of the house for the garbage people to pick up tomorrow."

"Oh."

So he helped me tug and unroll the plastic. Helped me tuck it under and over. Put stuff on the shelf. This took time (not much, but it was still time to him). Did he hear me when I told him that in the end we'd save time because I wouldn't have to sweep dust? Apparently not (A.P. from now on).

"I'd have gotten half the ceiling off by now," he sulked.

"Yeah, and then you'd drive off and I have a cleaning job in my hands."

"Well, that's what you're supposed to be doing while I scrape the ceiling off."

He had it all planned out in his head that I would be chasing dust with a broom all around the garage while he cleverly disguised himself as Snowman Gone Wild. Did he remember my "I hate cleaning" rule? A. P.

After that, I said, "Wait while I fill in this water dispenser."

I went to do it and came out to find him happily scraping away. I squirted him and the ceiling with water.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled.

"I'm wetting the ceiling."

"Why?"

"I've already explained why. Didn't you hear me all yesterday and at lunch?" A. P. I had a great idea and nobody ever listened. I wet down the popcorn while he watched. Then after a minute, I said, "Now scrape with the BIGGER wall scraper that I just bought."

R.B. did so. The popcorn just came off like melted cardboard. No dust. No flying flour. Just big pieces of cheesy looking globs. Right onto my plastic-covered floor. No muscle needed. I looked at him triumphantly. Will I get an acknowledgment of my brilliance? A. P.

"So, you're saying you have it under control, then?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Cos I got a leak I've got to go repair."

That's the passion of his life. Go look for the cause of an impossible leak. Wayyyyyy more interesting than scraping an easy ceiling. He just likes to get dirty, this man.

"Yeah, go, go, I'm okay here."

He was off like the Roadrunner, beeping the old truck merrily. He didn't seem to think (or care) that everyone on the road was going to squeak in horror at the sight of a snowman driving a beat-up on truck. I didn't waste my time calling to him to clean up first. Let him go home that way. Not my problem ;-).

I spent an easy two hours taking off the popcorn. It IS messy, but not as messy as it would have been without the plastic protection. There's still some clean up but hey, I can handle a little bit of that. All done. Then got off the by-then clumpy ladder (the wet goo got on my shoes and then I'd to track up and down the ladder with it), scraped the soles clean, put away tools to one side, then folded all four sections of the plastic covers into four bundles.

I hadn't anticipated the popcorn would weigh quite a bit when wet. I was glad I had the four sections idea. I can just imagine trying to roll up this giant plastic sheet weighing a hundred lbs of wet popcorn globs and then trying to lift it into the back of the truck. R. B. would think that was the easy part. Gah.

See, there are different ways to do things. Some, a man's way. Some, an uber-spy's way.

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