So when the 'new' basement was put in, I moved some things down there to store them.
I quickly realized that the basement was going to need a dehumidifier. On warm days moisture would show up enough to make those items I stored for the duration of construction smell musty.
Me: "Honey,we are going to need a dehumidifier down here."
Him: "No, let's just see how things work out after they insulate."
So a month passed. On days that got warm the concrete floor would dampen in certain areas. The plastic milk crate of items I'd stored on the floor under the steps that contained items such as Murphy's Oil Soap and other cleaners all had moisture on them.
Me: "Look honey, we need a dehumidifier!"
Him: "It just needs to get used to the temperature, then it will be fine."
I brought up some items I'd stored. Potholders. They had mildew on them.
I took them over to the trash can and said:
"Honey, I THINK we need a dehumidifier in the basement!"
Him: "Oh just wash them up and they will be fine."
I dumped them in the trash.
Then came some extremely humid and hot days. The humidity outside went up into the 80's and maybe 90%.
Oh you guessed it.
Me: "Honey. We. Need. To. Dehumidify the basement or what we have down there will be ruined. Ruint!"
Him: "We looked at dehumidifiers while we were at Menards and they are expensive!"
Me [smacking forehead]: "Yes they may cost a bit of money but I guess it is cheaper to use a dehumidifier than to replace everything I plan on putting in the basement. Or have stored already in the basement."
Him [going down the basement stairs to stare at the damp floor]: "I dunno."
Me: "I do. I'll pick one up today."
We take the new dehumidifier down the stairs and he opens the box.
Him: "Looks kinda small."
Me: "Want me to return it and buy the really expensive one?"
He struggles to put the caster wheels on and then mutters some curses. I walk over to the box and take out the instructions and read them to him.
Him: "Go get my glasses."
I return with his glasses and he peers at the casters and then snaps them in place.
I refrain from saying. "Perhaps you should use your glasses more often!"
He plugs it in. The digital read out blips and then goes dark.
A bit of cursing.
I point to the Power Button.
He pushes it.
It turns on and the read out says 76.
Him: "What does that mean?"
Me [I read from the manual]: "The digital read out tells you the current humidity in the room. You can use a timer, a delayed timer, or if you wish you can leave it run with a hose attached so you will not have to empty the tray."
Him: "Timer what? I don't want it timed!"
I think calmly about ripping out my hair. Instead I reach for the broom nearby and sweep up some sawdust that the contractors left behind.
Me: "Hmmm, looks too damp yet to sweep up."
Him: "But I don't want it to run on a Timer, how much time is it on?"
Me: "There is the Timer Button, is it off or on?"
Him: "I don't know, where are my glasses?"
Me: "In your pocket. And..." [I hand him the manual] "here are the instructions."
I leave him to stare at the Mystical New Machine that we now have in our little basement addition.
It hums quietly and sucks mildewy moisture out of the room.
It befuddles my husband who stands for about 20 more minutes watching it.
I'm not sure what he expected it to do.
Make Magical Unicorn Dust?
As I get to the top of the new stairs the urge is just too much.
I flip off the lights.
Me: "Oh. Sorry!"
I flip the lights back on and walk into the kitchen with a big smirk on my face.