The Girly Girl is a Handyman

Today was a no school day for me. I was sick so I stayed home and did what every teen does when they're home alone. Absolutely nothing!

A few hours later, my grandma and my great-aunt came over the house. They asked me what was new and I mechanically responded "nothing" while still focusing on "My Life on the D-List" Season 1 disc. I felt them looking down on the plastic wrapped microwave, still sitting on the kitchen floor from last week, that has yet to be replaced with the old one that my little sister playfully labeled "Out of Order".

"Sorry Grandma," I said in Spanish. "Dad still hasn't been able to put the new one in." She then looked at me, and I at her-- of course, I paused my show.
"Let's install it ourselves," she says.

I still don't know what got my lazy butt off the couch, but all I know is that I did. And between the unscrewing of the screws, the complicated charts, the dust in my eyes, the sweat dripping on my pj's, the worrisome phone call from my dad (I swear he rushed home when I told him of our little project) and the complicated measurments that were checked, rechecked and checked again, I felt proud.

Proud the moment my dad got home to only place the new microwave in place. Proud to clean the kitchen of all the dust. Proud to finally taste last night's spagetti again. Proud to look at the lastest technological microwave being out to use in my kitchen as the metallic silver and black shine with the last glimpses of the sun.

I felt strong in using my dad's power tools with the ease that I did. I felt good-no great- when the microwave fit perfectly in its designated space. And I felt acomplhised when I had the honors of cooking the machine's first meal for my dad.

But most of all, I'm proud of myself. Of my independence. Of the fact that I can tell any man who thinks a woman cannot do a "man's job" that I was the "handyman" for an afternoon.

I know that it was just a microwave, but for some reason I feel just a little more confident and more useful as a woman. Just don't ever ask me to install a microwave again.