You Have to Laugh

We have reached that stage of the bathroom remodel where the completion date is both tantalizingly close and tantalizingly far away.

This is a very dangerous stage.

Oh, I don't mean it's dangerous in a Money Pit bathtub disaster way. No, once the original terrifyingly crash-y demolition of the harvest gold cast iron tub was completed, it's mostly been decisions, followed by check writing, followed by more decisions, followed by pulling out a credit card, followed by more decisions, followed by paralyzing indecision, followed by a worried look at the savings account balance followed by a soupçon of hand-waving and Gallic emotion.

It has been a journey of self-discovery, in that we have discovered that I have excellent taste, and that my Husband is a serial pamperer.

Do I really want tiled shower walls instead of an insert? Yes. Yes, I do.

Do I insist that the vanity be a hand-crafted piece of furniture that is both beautiful and meaningful? I do, indeed.

Do I really, really think it would be a shame to cover up that beautiful tile work with a shower curtain, and that sliding glass shower doors are not a want but a necessity? I absolutely think that.

Do I know that my eyesight is fading and that I refuse to be one of those old ladies whose chins are covered with whiskers they do not see? Sadly, yes.

And that is why today there is an electrician bumping elbows with our wonderful carpenter. The carpenter has widened the door to accommodate what we assume will some day be matching walkers. The electrician is installing the connections needed for one of those fancy hotel-style swing-out magnifying mirrors.

In all of these decisions Husband has deferred the final decision to me, the one who will inevitably choose the more expensive (but so wonderful!) option.  Bless his accountant's heart, he is amortizing the cost of this renovation over the 30 years we've lived with the dreadful harvest gold option, and when you put it that way it doesn't seem nearly as expensive.

But last night, when I told him that the connection box for the swing-out mirror was going to have to go through a wall that was Sheetrocked over plaster, I think I heard this:



I'd better make sure those matching walkers are really nice.