Home Sweet Home Depot

Everyone has a big box store they prefer to be a patron of. Most of my friends from Rx America liked Best Buy, my kids like Toys R Us, my buddy from Basic liked Checker Auto and my In-laws are fans of Target (pronounced, TAR-zhay). One of my favorite stores is Home Depot. The smell of the wood, the hundreds of different ideas you can incorporate into improving your home, and the do-it-yourself encouragement you get from those ideas make it an ideal place for me to shop wherever I am.

It shouldn’t be surprising. Both my parents from my earliest memories liked to plan and build. I remember my dad installing a sprinkler system when we lived in Florida, (one of the few houses on the block to have one), and I remember him looking at all the PVC piping and checking prices for what felt like hours.  My mom was no less enthusiastic with her projects. I remember a big discussion about how much she hated the linoleum in our kitchen/dining room and the decision to go out and buy ceramic tile, grouting and a tile cutter.  All of these purchases were from where? Well, Home Depot of course.

So, when Lisa and I got married, moved to Centerville and had Home Depot around the corner, it was only natural that I should take her and foray into its aisles. That’s where we got the idea of new ceiling fans, remodeling our upstairs bathroom, countless yard projects and painting projects and of course the tools to make all our fantasies happen. 

Not all our projects have gone according to plan. There was the ill-fated flooring project in our town home. And some ideas never materialize.  The sky may be the limit when it comes to planning projects, but the wallet certainly has limits.

In our current situation, we are prevented from working on any house projects by the dictate that no matter how nice we might make things, “the resident is to leave everything exactly as it was.” So even if we decided the house needed more than one ceiling fan, or carpet in the bedroom or a color of paint other than the sterile white everywhere, we would have to tear out or paint over any improvements. This has caused some artistic frustration and so has found other outlets in the yard and in the furniture we own.

I always take the boys on my trips to Home Depot, partially because Lisa sometimes needs quiet in the house, partially because I want their help, but mostly because I love their company. This last time we went, I had my mom snap a few pictures on their favorite pastime when we go—riding in the cart.