When the “spinny thing” in my dishwasher suddenly came untethered after I thoughtlessly overloaded the appliance, I knew who to call. I texted my spouse, who was away at the family cottage, to say, ”I think we need to buy a new dishwasher.” His immediate reply was, “Not before I look at it!” Mission accomplished.

Let me be clear: I don’t want to purchase a new dishwasher, but I have a sense that it is nearing its last rinse cycle. However, being partnered with “Mr. Fix It” means that our particular appliance may live beyond its natural life. The Maytag Repairman has nothing on my guy.

Living with such a practical chap has certainly been money saving, if not always elegant. When my overpriced hair dryer ceased to fulfill its purpose, he replaced the electrical plug. Never mind that the plug could have powered a refrigerator or lawn mower – it just happened to be what was sitting in his toolbox, ready to go.

It seems there is nothing he cannot fix. He changes his own oil and brakes. He has installed light fixtures, ceiling fans, and garage door openers. He has assembled garden sheds and gazeboes. He has built motorized bicycles, installed new shutoff valves, laid down engineered flooring, and repaired toasters, vacuum cleaners, and, yes, our dishwasher. In fact, the “spinny thing” in our dishwasher (which I am informed is properly called a “spray arm”) is now expected to outlast the life of the appliance. Funny what a new bolt and a couple of well-placed zip ties can do in the hands of a pragmatic genius. All self-taught, I might add – his day job as a university professor is completely cerebral.

Watching him brings me new respect for those who are clever with their hands (doubly so, as I am completely impractical when it comes to such things). For, I have concluded, it takes more than just understanding how these gadgets work, it also requires imagination and the understanding of possibilities. Being a good repairperson is as much an art as a science. If Plan A doesn’t work, go back to the drawing board and find another way around the problem. And on and on. In our house, “MacGyver” has become a verb. Only in extreme cases will my man concede and agree to allow a professional to be called in.

But, of course, there are downsides to being with Mr. Fix It. For starters, there is the sheer abundance of tools in his life that can be oppressive. He has duplicates – sometimes triplicates – of almost everything: screwdrivers, hand saws, wrenches, ratchets and so very much more. Then there are the larger (and more space consuming) items such as chainsaws, table saws, bench grinders. And it seems there is always the need for more – items that can do specialty work in a pinch. A trip to the local hardware store represents an exercise in restraint for him, with me typically serving as the drag, ”But where will we put it, honey?” or “Don’t you already have five of those?” He gets the same buzz off a new reciprocal saw as I get off a new purse.

Then there is the “rainy day” mentality. Every single screw, nut and bolt must be preserved, and nails hammered straight because “I might need them some day.” Friends, knowing his penchant for keeping them, assuage their guilt about the environment by offering him their unwanted hardware and tools. Over the years he has also been gifted dishwashers, vacuum cleaners, light fixtures and any number of other items that can be cannibalized for their parts, if not repaired and used again outright.

Being handy, also means having injuries – often to the form of bruised, cut or scraped hands. But there are bigger problems. Laying flooring is a full body experience and requires days of recovery. Recent hip replacement surgery has given him a new lease on life. Nonetheless, old war wounds combined with aging are taking their toll.

Of course, having acquired a reputation over the years for being able to fix most things, he has become everyone’s “go to” guy when there is a problem. When the family cottage toilet won’t flush properly, he gets the call. When a friend needs the leaky faucet repaired and ultimately replaced, he’s the one asked to help out. He never asks a cent for the work – repayment is usually offered in the form of his favourite bottle of rum or gin.

With retirement looming large and the accompanying realization that life is finite, it has recently occurred to my spouse that he will likely not need all this flotsam and jetsam over the remaining interval of his days of repairing. He is valiantly trying to fight his lifelong tendency to save everything because that rainy day may just not arrive in time anymore. The battle is ongoing, but letting go of old habits is hard. Of course, he has me to help him along his path to recovery.

Oh, but what light doth through [recently repaired] window break? There is a new glow on the horizon in our household. Our younger son has decided to head into the skilled trades. Fix It Senior has taken full advantage of this reality to impart whatever wisdom he can to Fix It Junior and offers him every opportunity to share the myriad ways and means of repairing a fan or sanding and staining a door. Junior is also likely to inherit a complete set of tools (or several) when the time comes.

In the meantime, a tiny secret part of me was looking forward to replacing the 20-year-old white dishwasher with a quieter stainless steel version. Thanks to my spouse, that dream will have to wait a little longer. But when our ancient machine finally goes to appliance heaven, I know I will be able to count on Mr. Fix It to install the new one.

NOTE: An edited version of this essay was published in The Globe and Mail newspaper on March 30, 2023. Click here to read it on their site.