My husband is known by my family and friends to be rather resourceful.  And this is an understatement. He can deconstruct, construct or fix just about anything. And he’s always prepared.

He could hang a 200 pound mirror on your living room wall using a toothpick, some hairspray and a shoe. He could wire your house for sound using spare stereo wire from his first car in 1985 (that he saved just in case), with one of my cosmetic mirrors, some pipe cleaners and a belt to string the wire through the walls.  And if your ceiling fans didn’t come with remote controls, he would figure out how to make some out of spare buttons, a wire coat hanger and a Barbie arm. Clearly I’m exaggerating for effect here, but you get the idea.

He  loves to drive in crazy, snowy weather and becomes almost giddy when we find people stuck in the mountains in their two-wheel drive cars needing a tow.  That way he can use all the gadgets, cables, gloves and flares that he keeps in the trunk. He might even fix them a hot toddy while they wait for the tow, using the full bar he has set up in a box in the back of the car for our trip, heating it with the cigarette lighter and a piece of tin foil.

When my first car’s engine actually caught fire after we were first married years ago, he had a fire extinguisher at the ready in the hatch back (who has this in their car?).  Then he and his dad took apart the entire engine, taking Polaroid pictures of  the parts on the driveway as they disassembled them so that they could put it back together with a new head gasket.   There may have been some hairpins and dental floss holding things together under the smoke-tinged hood, but it still ran like a champ after that.

And if you’re ever stranded in the wilderness, have no fear. He could make you a tent using aspen leaves along with the spare chopsticks, clothespins and bicycle parts that he might happen to have in his backpack.  And don’t worry about first aid supplies, water or food to get you by for a week, he’s got that in his backpack too, plus an inflatable raft, a spare tire, a mini air compressor and a ham radio.

I often give him major grief about being so prepared and then nine times out of ten I’m thrilled when he pulls whatever I need out of that damn backpack.  Rain gear for all of us, bottles of water, sunscreen, bug repellent  and probably ingredients for a Western omelet in case we come across a place where he can start a fire using the flint and steel fire starting kit he keeps at the ready.  Otherwise he would use concentrated sunlight and his watch crystal (that he would remove with his Swiss army knife) to start the fire. He’s like our own SurvivorMan or Bear Grylls , but we don’t think we can get him to drink his own urine.

And much to his chagrin, he is also my 24/7  computer technology support.  When I’m frustrated with my computer for its inability to read my mind, or sync all my calendars, or keep up with the 63 windows I have open at the same time, he can fix that too — blindfolded even.  Okay, I’m exaggerating again for effect, but hopefully you get the idea. And no, nothing kinky is going on while he is fixing my computer blindfolded.

As an added bonus, he is also the kindest, smartest, funniest and handsomest (is that even a word?) guy you want to have around next time you are stuck in an elevator without power, stranded in the wilderness without shelter or trapped at a social function where the bartender doesn’t know how to make a dry gin martini.

Today I am ever so grateful that I live with MacGyver.  And that McGyver has a lot of patience with his sidekick.