I grew up in a family where when something broke, we either bought a new one or paid a handyman to fix it. My father's philosophy was always to throw money at the problem. He simply did not know how to fix anything, thus we never learned either. As a matter of fact, I did not know it was possible to fix things myself.
When I was a kid, we had one hardware store downtown, Dunn Brothers. While I was fascinated with the huge rolling ladder that swung between vats of nails and screws, I really thought people only bought their new lunchboxes and P. E. uniforms at Dunn Brothers.
My husband, however, grew up in a more frugal family, and he knows how to swing a hammer and put sweat equity into a home. I discovered this soon after we were married and moved into our first home. He decided our living room fan needed a light on it. I groused that we really could not afford a new fan with a light fixture and installation so soon after the expense of moving. He looked at me like I had three heads and preceded to tell he was going to install a ten dollar light kit from Home Depot. I was amazed. And, when he went to turn the light on, I still hid behind the couch sure the light was going to explode when he turned it on.
Because of my husband's talent for fixing the broken, my father thinks Ken hung the moon. And, that is why, today, I made three trips to Ace Hardware so that Ken could install a new kitchen faucet for my Father. My father who no longer throws money at the problem but my husband instead.