The Big Butt Hole Swede

Recently, a friend stopped by with her baby girl in a stoller to see if I wanted to take a walk with her. Our dog, Scout, has grown in to a very strong, very excitable, large dog. Not wanting to miss out on the new arrivals, she went bounding out the door and immediately jumped onto the stroller. Ugh! I had to wrangle her down and over to the front door where The Swede was standing. With a short "put her in!" command, I angrily shoved her over to him.

Not 10 seconds later, he sheepishly opened the door and said, "You're going to kill me."

I glanced quizzically at my friend. What could've happened in that short of time was my first thought. I walked in the house. He led me down the front hall around the corner to our kitchen.

That's when I saw it.

A hole the size of a large pizza in the kitchen wall...of our new house.

Apparently, The Swede was holding onto our dog's collar steering the wild beast toward her crate when he got tangled up in the vacuum cord on the floor. He tripped and fell against the wall. He must have hit the exact center between two studs because the point-of-impact hole was about the size of a potato, while the rest of the damage spirderwebbed out from there.

We've begun calling him a big butt-hole.

I painstakingly cut a clean hole, placed in the new drywall and patched and sanded, patched and sanded, patched and sanded until it was smooth.

Yesterday, The Swede wanted to take a look inside our attic.

He sheepishly came to me muttering something about the ceiling.

Oops. He did it again.

He accidentally stepped on the ceiling instead of a joist and now we have a large cross-shaped crack in our hallway ceiling.

Time to get out the spackle.

I see a diet in his future...or perhaps a skylight?