It sounded simple. So deceptively simple that I should've known it would turn nightmarish. We'd finally decided to spend the money to have central air put in the house. A couple thousand dollars, a couple holes in the ceilings for vents, duct work in the attic, the husband off from work for a couple days to supervise the AC guys. Simple.
That last bit was the dangerous part. While the husband was home to supervise, I was off chasing birds, and no one was here to supervise the husband. A husband with lots of time on his hands. Idle hands. Hands that have been itching for years to get their muscle into remodeling the bathroom. The one bathroom. The only bathroom in this little house.
Aside from my almost total inability to make decisions concerning anything as important as paint color and tile dimensions and faucet finishes, there was the stumbling block of this being the only bathroom in our house. That one in the picture up there, all torn apart. How do you manage a bathroom remodel while continuing to live there? We hadn't figured that out and I thereby had the perfect excuse to continue to postpone any horrid decorating decisions.
Right. So everything seemed fine here when I got in from work at the end of day one of the AC installation. There was lots of banging and dust and strange men roaming about the place, but fine nevertheless.
Then I went away to chase birds.
There were periodic updates from the husband. The first inkling of a problem was the report of a crack in the dining room ceiling and vague mention of a leak *somewhere in the bathroom* discovered via a puddle on the workbench in the basement below. My panic was assuaged by assurances that it was a quick fix - a seal on the toilet - nothing complicated.
The quick fix turned into a need to replace parts of the subfloor damaged by said leak.
The next phone call had me picking out vanities from memory. See... there was another leak, in the wall, behind the sink... so we'll have to tear the wall down to fix the leak. And while the wall's down, we might as well replace the vanity, right?
Months ago we had walked through that aisle in Home Depot. And could I remember which one I liked?
At this point I wasn't sure what I was more panicked about: the bathroom being torn apart or my husband making decorating decisions on his own.
I got in yesterday to find a new bathtub in my driveway and sheetrock in my living room. As I write, the husband is tearing down walls and cursing and mumbling about replacing a windowsill. Luka is having a ball, snarfing up bits of fallen wall and the odd nail. And I'm wondering where I'll shower for work in the morning.
But hey... the AC went in without a hitch.