“Attention, please,” my updated social media status read, “The
toilet is out of the bathtub and functioning properly.”
Anyone who really knows us will tell they knew this was not a
joke.
It was Day Three of my return home from a weeklong trip visiting
family in Kansas and attending a writers’ workshop in Ohio. Before I left on my
Saturday morning flight Spouse had already begun preparations for replacing the
floor in our bathroom. To the surprise of nobody, the project that was supposed
to take just a few days managed to morph into a major hassle and there wasn’t
enough time to complete it before my return.
That Sunday, after dealing with a cancelled flight, rerouting to
Boston and taking a bus back to Portland while my luggage found its way onto
another Portland bound plane, let’s just say that coming home to the sight of a
white porcelain bowl jutting out from our tub had me on the edge of using some
potty language of my own.
Ever wonder how a simple floor replacement becomes a full
renovation? It’s easier than you would think. It started with a pipe that had
to be replaced under the toilet, followed by rotted subflooring, which meant
another replacement. From there we began talking about just how bad our cruddy
old vanity and medicine cabinet would look with a new floor. The next thing I
knew, Spouse was using the “s” word every other sentence. That’s right, folks.
Sheetrock.
I’m sure you and I can agree that no spouse ever said, “I just
adore when my partner tears up the house with a renovation project, endangering
our lives with tools, nails and 2x4s scattered throughout every room in the
place.”
When I refer to our bathroom, I am referring to our one bathroom
in the whole house. We managed to deal with one bathroom as a family of four,
but no bathroom is a little ridiculous, even when it’s down to just the two of
us. If it hadn’t been for the fact that we have access to our wintering
neighbors’ home, the next step would have been a port-a-potty in the yard –
always a lovely addition to the landscaping.
Sleeping across the street and running back home in the morning
to have breakfast, feed the cats and gather our belongings for work was less
adventurous than it sounds – and really, what part of that even sounds
adventurous? Things came to a head Tuesday evening when I hit my point after
not sleeping in my own bed for nine nights. At that point Spouse and I were
ready to throw each other off the island, but I couldn’t carry through with
that threat. I still needed him to finish putting the bathroom together.
By Tuesday the toilet was back in place and usable, prompting my
social media announcement. We are still in the throes of our renovation. Our
new vanity sits in the garage awaiting its place against the new sheetrock…
which is also in the garage. In the meantime, washing hands in the tub and
brushing teeth in the kitchen sink (thank goodness it's a double sink) have become the norm. It could be worse.
We could have a port-a-potty in our backyard.
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