If I Weren't Laughing I'd Be Crying...

We have been without one of our bathrooms since two days before Christmas last year. On December 23, we got up early to do a little straightening and cleaning before my sister arrived at 11:30 in the morning, and the EO arrived at 8:00 that night. So, I made beds and organized while H cleaned the second floor bathroom. He did a right thorough job on the bathtub. It sparkled! He went downstairs ahead of me, and when he got to the kitchen, I heard him say "We've got a problem." And when I got there, I saw water pouring out of the ceiling fan in the kitchen. Yikes!

I wanted to call the plumber. No, says my favorite husband, it's going to require pulling out the ceiling or maybe the upstairs floor to fix it. It's that 80-100 year old cast iron plumbing, rusting or corroding, or something like that. It's going to take a lot of work to replace it, he says. Luckily, it had nothing to do with the commode, so at least that worked, but not the sink or the tub. He suggested we wait until we can ]\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\0 (that was Wolfie, writing his own thing--translate "feed me"--as he walked across the keyboard, the little bum). OK, so H figured we could just replace the bathroom rather than tearing it up and putting it back together. A nice idea. We've been wanting to redo that bathroom for several years now. Fine, I said. We'll try to do it in February. Ok, then, maybe March. If not March, then April. Should I just call a plumber? "No," my husband says,"I'll do the work. It will save us money." But then we went to Scotland in June. So maybe July? Well, not July. Now, we started thinking about maybe waiting until the EO graduates next year. But that would mean...no second floor bathroom for another year!

The thing is, I'm a bath person, not a shower person. I believe in long luxurious bubble baths in a comfortable sloping tub. A glass of wine now and then. Some nice smelly candles. A good book. Now, the only other full bathroom in this house has the most ridiculous little bathtub in the world, obviously created by a designer who had never taken a bath in his or her life...preferring that splashy thing called a shower, I suppose. For eight months, I have used that awful bathtub. For eight months, I have longed for my comfy tub. I am proud to say I have never complained. Until now.

But now, my sister-in-law and her husband and two girls are coming to visit in September. We are very excited abou the visit, but it's going to be rough with all six of us using the same bathroom for the week. So, last week, in my sweetest voice, I suggested that perhaps now would be a good time to get a plumber to come out and tell us if we can just patch it up and use it for another year or so. To my surprise, H said he'd call the plumber.

The plumber came on Sunday. As they went upstairs, I heard my husband telling him to let him know when he needed the kitchen ceiling cut, and my husband would do that job...he's very particular about how things are done. The plumber agreed and started surveying the problem. Luckily, in this old house of ours, this bathtub has an access area that is easily reached from above the tub. The poor plumber was practically hanging upside down in the access area surveying... H and I went downstairs to leave him to his work. Before long, the plumber comes downstairs, looking for H. "Is it really bad?" I asked. "No, I think it's a lot simpler than you realize." "Really???" I was excited! Maybe we won't have to tear out the kitchen ceiling after all.

For eight months, I have been without my beloved comfy tub. For eight months, I have been using that ridiculous thing upstairs. It turns out that our flood was caused by my husband's exuberance cleaning the tub two days before Christmas. The water went up into the overflow (the very old gasket needs replacement) and poured down into the ceiling over the kitchen. The bill to find out this delightful "I told you so" nugget? $142. That and a tube of Goop silicone caulking. The plumber said that it would take an awful lot of corrosion or rust to get through those thick old cast iron pipes. And there was none.

And no, I haven't used the free "I told you so." I never do...even though I've had quite a few opportunities to do so. But telling stories about my favorite husband is much more fun than telling him "I told you so." It's more fun to fall back on the all-knowing smile and arched eyebrows than to say "I told you so." And I have so many stories to tell!

So, it looks like we can wait until after the EO graduates to remodel our upstairs bathroom. But I promise that the next tub that goes into that bathroom must meet my strict specifications. Even if it means climbing in to each and every model in my socked feet to try it out!