What Not To Say To Your Husband During a Remodeling Project

We're 3 days into some DIY garage remodeling at the new little house on the prairie.  Here are some of the conversations that have happened.  

Me:  (After a hole was cut incorrectly for a plug in) I'm pretty sure you're supposed to measure twice and cut once.
The Boy from Texas:  *Mean glare and spits on the floor.*

Me:  What's this stuff (sheet rock) made of?
The Boy from Texas:  It's sheet rock.
Me:  I know, but what's in it.
The Boy from Texas:  Um....rock.

Me:  So when you paint with this sprayer, how will we ensure it doesn't get on the floor?  Should we buy drop cloths?
The Boy from Texas:  It's a garage.  We don't care about paint on the floor.
Me:  We should always care about paint on the floor.

Me:  (After we put up the first big piece of sheet rock.)  Wow!  Look at that, it's just the right height, how did that work?
The Boy from Texas:  Yea, how about that.  It must be a miracle.
(I realize now that there is a standard height for this kind of thing and it was not, in fact a miracle.)

Me:  Don't just throw those screws on the ground!  We can use them again.
The Boy from Texas:  They're junk.  They used the wrong screws.
Me:  There are different kind of screws?
The Boy from Texas:  Yea, we are using drywall screws, they used cheap junk screws like you'd use on a door hinge.  It's important to have a good screw.
Me:  That's what she said.

The Boy from Texas:  (After trying to drill a screw in the dry wall where a framing board should have been.)  Bunch of dang idiots didn't make the frame every 16".  Only an idiot would do that.
*10 minutes later we had to replace a 2x4 that was rotted.*
Me:  Um....that's not 16 inches.
The Boy from Texas:  Whatever, it's fine.

Me:  What kind of saw is this?
The Boy from Texas:  A sawzall.
Me:  Saws all?  That's creative.  This blade is bendy.
The Boy from Texas:  *Shakes head in disbelief.*

Me (about 17 times):  Be careful with that hammer, don't bust the sheet rock we just put up on the other side.
The Boy from Texas:  Do you think I'm stupid?
Me:  No, I don't think you're stupid, but you are kinda a bull in a China shop.
The Boy from Texas:  *Hits the wall and spits on the floor.*


We're maybe 1/4 of the way done and we've reverted to hiring someone to finish it up tomorrow. Wonder why he didn't want to keep working with me?