50%

My better half and I have our unique strengths but I will never count two things in my favor: navigation and building homes.

He is a wizard at both.

When we go from point A to B, I simply trust the GPS like the rest of humanity does. He will audaciously overrule Google to find a faster way to get there. Saving 30 minutes on a day-long trip is an obsession that serves us well. Saving five on a shorter ride is annoying but since my navigation gene is absent, I have to be all in with his choice.

Residential construction and this man are a pair made in heaven. He approaches builders with a surprising level of gentleness and then brings the hammer down on the requirements and cost control. In our fourth adventure, we are in the throes of building a house in New England. I didn’t think we would do this again, but never say never.

His ideal situation is to build a straight colonial because it is the most efficient in terms of space utilization, costs less than other designs and a rectangle parsed into efficiently placed rooms separated by minimal number of hallways fits his idea of order. Neat, clean, organized, easy to build and zero wasted space, he declares triumphantly.

But, he chose me and I like chaos.

My worst offense is insisting on a porch. That just pushes him over the edge. A porch is expensive, needs a roof, floor and structure, he grumbles. It doesn’t add value to the house, he implores. He is relentless but so am I. It gives us such a delightful place to sip tea and hang out with the grandkids, I counter. I’ve been able to get away with being fiesty 50% of the time. A house we built in 2004 had a wrap-around porch and the one we are building now has two porches.

It turns out that wanting a porch is not my only offense.

The plan we picked this time - by my prodding and his eventual agreement - is not a colonial. It’s a modern farmhouse, meaning it is full of nooks and notches and open spaces and hallways that spring from nowhere. This plan feeds my need for asymmetry and fuels his anxiety. He is frequently muttering about how we may not recoup the investment we are making. Won’t, he says with indignation when he remembers the pain of selling the first house with a porch.

Still, he goes along with the whimsy.

It has taken many decades to learn that it is far less interesting to have one person’s way all the time, that we only live once, that making the other person happy despite our own discomfort is worth doing. Being on the receiving end of such a favor is grand. Having said that, I am steeling myself for the next project to be a colonial because this man loves to find novel ways to get to places and build colonials. It will definitely be my turn to return the favor next.

In the meantime I am rejoicing at notching two wins out of four. May the mosquitoes not interfere with tea on the porch and that porch better deliver value in the long run, or else I will never hear the end of it.