"Yeah, okay, let's redo the bathroom."
Right now there is no ceiling, walls, tub, toilet and the floor is being ripped out in a matter of hours. And I signed up for this. It's being done because as the husband says,
"Why the hell did they put that there? Why would they do that? What were they thinking when they did this? You've got to be kidding me what kind of moron would put this here?"
'They' are the previous owner and the original builders. And these utterances are muttered by the husband every time he works on the house. So all the slow leaks are being addressed during this remodeling. That's why we get to rip out the floor and ceiling. Might as well take out the walls too.
We have moved all our bathroom essentials into Boy #3's bathroom in the basement. He's more than happy to have us, ha. He's really been a lot of help with the remodeling, trying to get it done as quick as possible. The husband got up at 4:00 am to go to the bathroom, didn't realize the dog followed him until he made his way back and saw her in bed with Boy #3, licking his face. I don't care what you say, that right there is funny. He might as well get use to us, he's probably the one we are living with when we get old and can't take care of ourselves. Actually I believe I put that in my will during his teenage years.
So I have all my things in his bathroom, it's like when you go to a hotel and all your stuff is on the top of the vanity. It's out of place and confusing. The first night I went in there to get ready for bed I forgot to take out my left contact. The next morning I went to put my contacts in and was perplexed. The left side of the case had contact solution in it but no contact, WTF? I looked all over, thinking I dropped it. Back upstairs I'm explaining my dilemma to the husband, who showed no interest what so ever. I went to find the box that had my extra contacts in it and stopped for a moment, asked myself,
"Why can I see out of both eyes right now?"
Doh! I slept with the left contact still on my eyeball. I told this story to Boy #3 when he got home from work and he looked scared. Maybe he thinks I'm losing it faster than he thought I would.