Horror Story

Most folks think of spooky things this time of year. I, however, have a downright horror story.

It's called......my bathroom.

Little children are scared to brush their teeth at the sink.  Grownups have been known to cry when the shower is mentioned.

And we won't even discuss the commode.

The floor is a bright, bird's-egg blue tile.  It is covered by a too-well worn carpet.  Apparently it dates back to when the house was first built, some fifty years ago. It is cemented in with wire underlayment, making it almost impossible to remove unless the person removing it uses a jackhammer.

They knew how to build houses to last, way back when.

Well, sort of.

The tile in our shower is another story. Not only is it caving in on two walls, but blackish mold has shown its ugly self between some of the tiles. It does not come off, even using bleach. The shower pan is cracked, and likely leaking water as well. Outside the shower, trim tile is falling off of the wall.

It isn't pretty.

There is no exhaust fan in the bathroom, so humidity has nowhere to go. Neither does any other gaseous substance.

Yuck.

Thankfully, this is not the main bathroom for the house. Even more thankfully, we have found and hired a contractor to rid us of this scourge. He will begin work week after next.

As Mr. T so aptly stated, "I pity the fool."

He will have his work cut out for him. We're having him basically gut the whole room, replacing everything. When he is finished we should have new everything, with wall ready for me to paint.  

I can't wait. But I will, because this is more like Christmas than Halloween.