I sit here and type as little puffs of drywall dust hover over each finger before floating up and over the screen. Tiny bits of tile and assorted debris sift their way out of my hair, I feel like my Shih-tzu after the dog park with leaves and twigs trailing from all bits of fur. Bathroom demolition is not as fun as it used to be.
We have been so busy and diligently annihilating our old bathroom on schedule like responsible adults. The new tool belt I have purchased (and promptly spray painted pink) is proof of my dedication on the journey of being an adult, not just for the fact that I bought a tool belt but also because I did not choose the already pink one for sale on account of it being flimsy. Do they think that girls use tiny hammers and dull nails? Perhaps those tool belts were designed solely to store snacks and glitter (in which case I should have got one for exercise day).
After a very long and productive weekend, we have removed all tile, insulation, drywall and junk. We had even cleaned our workspace to prepare for the next step! And then it happened. Francis gave a drain pipe a sultry look and it just crumbled. At first with just a drip, then later with a flood of dirty dish water from the kitchen sink into the wall cavity behind our bathtub. (After some tightening to repair the drip, a hole opened up in the bottom of the old rusty pipe)
I guess I just felt like we should have gotten a prize for being so responsible on our project, like maybe a pizza party! I'm learning that adult prizes look more like: not having to rip out your newly tiled shower while dirty dish water has been draining into your walls for who knows how long? A wiser me would tell myself that the sense of satisfaction that goes along with doing something new and scary should be prize enough. If that's not enough, the firm steps taken farther into adulthood by not calling on a parent as well as developing a resilient marriage, surely are. A special bonus: no dishes will be washed today unless they fit into the bathroom sink!
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