Do not for any reason leave Mr. Crochet Addict alone with anything major that is suspected of being broken. He will try to fix it, in interesting ways, that are at least funny after the fact. Two incidents come to mind- the Toilet Disaster, and the Furnace Incident.
The Toilet Disaster- The flapper on the toilet needed replaced. We bought a replacement kit, and my dad explained over the phone what to do. Sounded easy, so I told Mr. CA that we would work on that after I got off work. Upon returning from work, I was greeted by 2 very frightened and confused cats, and a flurry of profanity coming from the bathroom. As I approached the bathroom, on the hallway floor, I encountered the lid of the toilet tank, followed by a trail of all of the innards of the toilet tank, and finally, and most alarmingly, the actual toilet tank itself. Yes, Mr. CA had managed to take the toilet, down to the bowl, apart. The profanity was caused by him not being able to put it back together. Panicking, I decided to ask the neighbors for a reference for a good plumber. Fortunately, the same neighbor used to be a plumber, so he came over, and after he finished laughing, was able to put things to rights again.
The Furnace Incident- Our house was built in the 1920s, and the furnace was originally a woodburner, converted into natural gas some time later. One day, it stopped working. Mr. CA was off that day, I worked, and I asked him to call a repairman to look things over. I called home on my lunch break and Mr. CA assured me that he had corrected the matter. The Toilet Disaster came to mind, and I felt rather uneasy. However, the furnace had instructions for ignition on it, so I hoped that Mr. CA used those. Upon returning home, I noticed the house was rather chilly. Mr. CA offered to show me how he was fixing the furnace. So, he grabbed some newspaper, wadded it up, picked up a lighter, and headed toward the basement. Sweet monkey fritters, I thought. He's been hurling flaming objects into the natural gas furnace all day. I tried to explain why this was a Bad Idea, but Mr. CA felt that since it worked fine all day, to continue with his current method. So, I grabbed the cats, who for some reason had followed us into the basement, and ran upstairs. Suddenly, what sounded like a sonic boom issued from the basement. Mr. CA teleported into the living room instantly afterward, and concernedly asked if his facial hair was still attached. Seems when he had thrown the flaming newspaper into the furnace, as I predicted, he was greeted with a rather impressive, but short-lived, fireball. At this point, I figured it would be a good idea for me to look things over. A quick inspection of the control panel showed that the furnace had somehow been turned off. Mr. CA said that he'd swept it with a broom earlier the previous day. He must have bumped the switch. I followed the ignition instructions and we had lovely, non-explody heat.
I dearly love Mr. CA, and for his safety, he is no longer permitted to attempt to fix things without supervision.