You see, we have been "working" on "finishing" our upstairs bathroom for, oh I don't know, TWO YEARS. It's kinda this thing we have, not like that other thing we have with Maple Nut Goodies. No, this is a different thing. It all began one cool December night when a pipe burst and made it rain in our living room. And it wasn't even Kenny Powers make it rain, it was like actual rain with real water. Doller doller billz, y'all.
After making it rain indoors with water, we destroyed everything in the bathroom with hammers and our rage. Like, down to the studs destroyed. Which was actually a good thing because there was disgusting mold and mummified dead mice everywhere in this little bathroom of ours. It was both disturbing and incredibly gratifying. So, that was two years ago. Also, an important part of this tale is this: our master bedroom and full bath is located on the first floor of our home and--AND--the upstairs has a separate water shutoff valve. So, what's that all mean, Sherlock? Well, it means that we closed the door and pretended like our un-bathroom didn't exist for a while. We tried to pretend it existed, but it never lasted long. No one lives, breathes, works or needs a bathroom upstairs on a regular basis, so you could say that not having full bathroom access wasn't really inconvenient.
So yesterday, we called the plumber back for a return/final visit to finish up the details. My husband, who is quite handy, left me a list to deliver to the plumber for the projects we needed to be completed by the plumbing service, who we commonly refer to as "Steve & Ted's Excellent Plumbing Adventure." That's not their name (OK, the last part isn't) but it's hilarious. Also hilarious: the plumber who comes out to our house is named Bill. I was THIS close to asking him yesterday why he isn't part of the name. I mean, it would make more sense in a Keanu Reeves-y kinda way, no?
No. OK, so the plumber is at our house and I tell him what to do and depart for work. I return home to find my husband using an excessive number of box fans in our home and a temperature of oh, like 89 degrees because all the windows are open. My poor dog is panting like it's 89 degrees and she's wearing a black fur coat. Which she is. The plumbing is all finished, he says, except for this one "thing." There's a thing? I don't like that there's a thing. Also I don't like: being told "not to freak out" before something is shown to me.
What's the thing, you ask? Oh, just an anniversary present for me. We said we weren't exchanging gifts, but I got something anyway. Lookie!
That's the ceiling.
I got a giant water stain on the ceiling to match the large hole, already in the ceiling. Happy anniversary, hope you like your special project of trying to get rid of this stain! The stain! My God, THE STAIN!