Monday, August 12, 2013
Bathroom Remodel ( ie.The Saga of the World's Smallest Bathroom, a Rerun)
This is a re-post, in honor of my dad.
(Today would have been his 86th birthday.)
My dad was always building or re-building something. The house in which I grew up was pretty much undergoing some form of construction for the entire 18 years I lived there.
When DL and I purchased our first home here in NC, dad came to visit, tool box in hand. He and DL tackled a multitude of projects, and DL learned a lot from him.
He would have been a big help with the bathroom remodel. If he had been alive, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have taken 18 months.
Those of you who have seen it, know that my house contains what could be the world's smallest bathroom. By small, I mean that when you sit on the toilet, your knees bump the vanity.
Well, as is the tradition with this house, the world's smallest bathroom has a problem. By problem, I mean the floor was rotted out underneath. That meant ripping up the linoleum. (And by linoleum? I mean the original linoleum. The stuff made with linseed oil.)
So I've been cruising through the home blogs and websites, looking for ideas for updating the world's smallest bathroom. But it's funny...the bathrooms shown on these sites are never small. And some of them are downright....odd.
Take a look at that top pic. The way the door would swing open and immediately to your right is a toilet back in it's own little isolated cubby hole. I like this. It's like a punishment. Or an escape. I can hear it now, "Just for that, you can sit on the toilet, young man!"
The second pic is a little difficult to see, but that bathroom is all white tile and grout. I wonder how many illegal immigrants you would have to have come over every week to clean that sucker? Not to mention the ten gallon buckets of mildew remover.
The third picture just startles me. I mean...??? This doesn't look like it belongs in someone's real home...it looks like it belongs in a house of ill-repute. If I went into this bathroom, I would immediately start singing. "ROXANNE! YOU DON'T HAVE TO PUT ON THAT RED LIGHT!"
That bottom picture kills me, though. Because nothing says "neighborly" like getting out of the tub, streaming wet, while the folks next door are hosting a garden party, complete with binoculars. And see that wine bottle on the window sill? You'd no doubt be so wasted you wouldn't even know that there were 24 pairs of eyes staring at you.
Back to the drawing board.