Top This!


Fact: I do not know the difference between granite or quartz or Torquay or Cambria.

We’re talking countertops here–duh!–and to be fair, I think I know that Cambria is a brand. Or a design or a store or maybe the name of the guy in a store. 

No matter.

I write these words just inches away from new Phoenix Lincoln countertops. They are gorgeous, with just the perfect amount of black veiny things seeping across a slick white surface that, strangely, does not look like the same white surfaces we have been looking at for at least a year. Or two. Or three. 

Our long countertop journey has ended, and I am so happy I could just kiss our new countertop. But as all husbands know, kissing, touching, or using a new countertop is forbidden. 

These countertops are carved from rocks–big, solid chunks of earth sanded by dinosaur toenails. Without question, the countertops are the most solid things in our home. If those dinosaurs return with meteors and a thirst for vengeance, I am hiding under the Phoenix Lincolns, if, of course, my wife lets me.

We have been working on the house for years, and I have been successful in retaining–thus far–some of my beloved man treasures that were targeted for eviction. As of now, I can admire the new Phoenix Lincolns from my questionably leather thrift store chair. This may change. It probably will change. 

But here’s the thing about kitchen improvements. Forgive me, wife and God, but I sincerely do not care. 

What I care about is making my family happy, thus I encouraged my wife and daughters to change and redecorate all they want to their tastes.

Problem is, my sweet wife wants my input. That’s right: She has free license to do whatever she wants, but she wants the opinion of the schlub sitting in his underpants with mustard in his mustache. It is noble and confusing. 

Here is a transcript of my input:

“Yeah, that looks great, honey. Go for it. Well, sure, that design looks great, too. Go for it. Another sample? It kind of looks like the others, but, sure, go for it. Yes, I did say I like the first one, but I also like this one. Go for it! No, no. I am not changing my mind. Go for … Yes, I like that one, too.”

Looking at countertops is as fun as brain surgery, but countertop shopping does not come with morphine. 

It is sooooo boring, and every countertop design looks the same–be it white with black veins or black with white veins (although some had spots. I think).

In the end, I pulled it together and agreed–in all sincerity–that Phoenix Lincoln was the best choice. Good call, Dave. As hard as my patient wife tried to tap into my refined countertop wisdom, we ultimately went with my No. 1 design tenet:

My favorite design is her favorite design. Go for it. OS

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