If it ain't broke, don't fix it ... unless your dad says otherwise

 When Danni and Paul were visiting last month, we replaced my dying garage door opener.

What should have been a straightforward d-i-y project became needlessly complicated at step 1B,

when a screwhead broke off of a screw and a critical component cracked. 

The project came to a screeching halt while we deliberated our options.

It was decided to move forward using the cracked component, attached with one of the requisite two screws.

I would order a new part, then uninstall the opener and replace the part when it came in...

which would be after Danni and Tall Paul had returned home...

and I had to do it all by myself. Yeah, right.

The part arrived two weeks ago. I walked by the box every time I went into the garage.

The new unit seemed to be working just fine with the cracked component attached with one screw.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," I thought.

"But it is broke, fix it," said my conscience, which sounded suspiciously like my dad.

So Sunday morning, I finally cowgirled up and set out to uninstall, 

fix, and reinstall the garage door opener.  

 I had a detailed, illegible list of instructions which made a whole lot of sense a month ago.

How hard could it be?

 My truck served as my ladder and workbench, and Tall Paul was but a phone call away. 

I was feeling good about this.

 Smooch sat in the back seat and provided much-needed moral support.

Getting the unit off the ceiling required only one call to Tall Paul,

and replacing the damaged part was a breeze. 

Now all I had to do was put Humpty Dumpy back together again.

 Smooch: What if she screws this up? The garage door will never open. 

I won't be able to go for a ride again. We're doomed.

 Smooch had a point. I would now have to do the above procedure (bolt the opener to the ceiling)

without the benefit of an extra pair of hands to hold it in place.

One pail + one 2x4 + one chunk of 4x4 + the telephone = an extra pair of hands.

As long as I didn't have to call Tall Paul in the next few minutes, I was good.

 Smooch was skeptical as I reached for the opener to push the button.

 Smooch: There is a god.