Funny Guy Friday… Under construction...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband, Mark. So… I married a funny guy...
     About a year ago, after caulking and re-grouting our master bath room for about the tenth time, I decided that I wanted to redo the room.
     There were two main reasons for the makeover: the first being that our shower is about 3 ft. by 3 ft. and there was barely enough room to bend over to pick up the soap that the kids always leave on the floor. Second, I have no idea how to caulk or grout so I was pretty sure that the water was leaking and our bathroom was about to fall into our foyer. In the very least, I was sure that water had damaged the floor board under the shower.
     When I came up with the idea of renovating, I immediately ran into a big problem. I should not have been surprised, because I ran into the same problem when I decided that I wanted to finish our basement several years ago.
     The problem of course, was Cheryl.
     Cheryl had no desire to finish the basement….and similarly, had no desire to redo the bathroom. She was not interested, and as a result, was completely disengaged in any conversation that I would try to have.
     Hey, I've got a great idea for the bathroom. We can get rid of the bath tub and have a big walk-in shower.
     That's nice honey. Speaking of showers, could you please wash the broccoli?
     What about the bathroom?
     Great idea... you can wash the broccoli in the bathroom. 


     Once I got Cheryl on board with the projects, I ran into a second big problem. This should not have been a surprise, because I ran into the same problem when I wanted to finish the basement.
     This problem, once again, was Cheryl.
     Once she decides that she is going to be engaged, she wants to take over and become the project manager. The problem with that is that for the past year, we have had a project manager---me.
     Hey, I've got a great idea for the bathroom. We can get rid of the bath tub and have a big walk-in shower.
     That's nice honey. Speaking of bath tubs, I think that a nice Victorian claw-foot tub would look great in the corner! 
     We have been married for nearly twenty years and in that twenty years, you have taken about five baths. Now we need a claw-foot tub?
     When I have a pretty new claw-foot tub, I will take more baths. How's that broccoli coming?


    Once Cheryl was on board, we started to get some prices. Wow! I explained to the first contractor, we were re-doing an existing bathroom, not adding another one. Apparently, the second contractor was also under the same mistaken impression about our plans. Their prices never really turned out to be a problem because neither of them ever called me back. I guess the news reports about the economy turning around were true.
     So for a year, we kicked around ideas and flirted with starting the project, but nothing ever really developed as I could not get any concrete prices or return calls. I was fed up one day and was venting to my secretary. She then advised that her husband, Randy, does this kind of work with his cousin Rusty. I was aware of this but was reluctant to have him do the work in case things did not go well. I mean, who ever heard of a home improvement job going bad---but at this point, I was ready to go. She told me he was in the middle of a job and I would be next. Great, another six month delay.
     Six days later, I got a call and the project was on.     
     Randy came to the house to scout out the project, not to give a price, because he charges by the hour, but to see just what we had planned. I was not too worried about him taking extra time because I control every move his wife makes for eight hours a day. I am pretty sure that he likes her, so I had the potential for retaliation going for me.
     You would think that after planning this for a full year, we would have had a concrete plan. We had no plan; all I knew was that I wanted a bigger shower. The three of us went up to the bathroom and began exchanging ideas. After five minutes, I knew I was finished. You see, I have great ideas, but when you start to get down to the details, my mind starts to wander and my eyes tend to glaze over. I was in way over my head and I left the room to go downstairs to talk to my secretary who accompanied her husband.  She was not surprised to see me because she knows I have a little adult ADD and unless the details really matter, I gloss over. My parting words to the contractor and the "new" project manager were, just get me a bigger shower, please! 
     To Cheryl's credit, she did listen to me about the shower and we came up with a plan that did not include a tub. This was definitely, my idea. But Cheryl is also a little bit of a sneaky project manager. She will tell me what she wants and we will discuss her plans. If, by chance, I happen to disagree with an idea of hers, she begins to explain it with every single detail, as if I would agree with her if only I understood her. I understand what she wants, I just don't always want what she wants. By the way, you would be amazed at the long explanation that my rejection of cream colored walls elicited.
     On the other hand, if I do end up consenting to her ideas, they somehow become my ideas. No big deal, but we spend a lot of extra money because she wants me to have what I want. For example, for only four hundred extra dollars, she got me those cross handled faucets that I wanted. Truth be told, I never wanted cross handled faucets. In fact, I had no idea what they were until our salesman at the Ferguson showroom, sensing my ignorance, showed me what they were when Cheryl excused herself to go to the bathroom. In retrospect, cross handled faucets are kind of self-explanatory. They are nice, but I never wanted them---she did!
     By the way, our salesman was a very nice young man that I think my wife developed a little "cougar crush" on. I had to laugh when we were picking out our new toilet and he pointed out that they have them in standard height or comfort height, which is two inches higher. I pointed out that I am 48 years old and have sat on the same size toilet seat my entire life; why would we switch sizes now? He informed us that as you get older, it is easier to get on and off the higher seat. Ouch! At least I didn't have a crush on the little fella.
     Then he suggested we sit on the higher toilet to try it out, and Cheryl actually began to blush and asked the young whipper snapper to turn his head while she tested out the new throne. Fully clothed, in the middle of a showroom floor, she could not sit down on the toilet while this kid watched.
      Anyway, the project is coming along swimmingly. Randy and Rusty are awesome. They came, they demolished, they plumbed and they got everything ready for the tile man. Then they did what everyone named Randy and Rusty do at this time of year: they left for Daytona for ten days to watch the 500. The tile man followed up right behind them and has been going at it for the past nine days and will finish up tomorrow.
     When I come home every night, Cheryl tells me how great the work is and how nice they all are to her as she spends hours of her day in the bathroom overseeing the project. They listen to her ideas, offer suggestions and explain what they are doing. Did I mention that we are paying them by the hour? No problem, Cheryl has become part of the team and they have become part of our family. Our tile man, Gilberto, sat down with us for dinner the other night and has lunch with the family every day.
     This evening she advised me that she and Gilberto will caulk tomorrow and then they should be done. Really Cherylberto, when did you become a tile setter? By the way, the two of you will be grouting tomorrow----you embarrass the entire industry when you try to "talk the talk."
     The only complaint that I have about the whole project is that I am now sleeping by myself. You see, the dust in our bedroom is too much for Cheryl. I can't quite figure out how she can spend all day on the job in the room where the dust is at its worse, but then have to sleep downstairs because there is too much dust in our room. What the heck, I guess I really don't care where she sleeps so long as gets up early enough to get to the paint store in the morning. You see she needs to pick up that cream colored paint that I just have to have. I know it is going to look great!