And Then There Was One

This post is brought to you by the man of the house, John.  

Let's give him a warm, Elephant Buffet welcome!  

With a deathly level of seriousness, Carol tells me she has something to confess. 

"I did something stupid today, and it's been killing me trying to figure out how to tell you," she says.  She takes a deep breath, "I drywalled your levels into the bulkheads above the cabinet today."

I laugh, relieved it's something so small, but then a little detail nags my attention.  "Wait.  My lev-ELS?" I ask.  "Not just my level?"

"No," she replies, "There's two of them up there.  But not your good one.  That's still in the garage."

I let it sink in; my trio of levels had turned into a solo act with one stroke of a putty knife.  And though my "good one" was more expensive, it wouldn't have won the Sophie's choice of levels, had that scenario ever been raised.  A little voice tells me to look on the bright side.  It could be worse.  All three of my levels could be stuck above the cabinet, forever silently ensuring the alignment of that one wall.

I look up at the bulkhead, considering the necessary search-and-rescue.  Nothing short of a hole in the drywall would do.  And after all her work, I'm just not prepared to ask Carol for that.

So.  There is not one, but two levels up in the bulkhead above the cabinets.  Adding to the stories which makes the house a little more "ours".