…and the Husband Ran Away with the Toilet.
When I think about our huge guest bathroom remodel, my biggest regret is not buying a new toilet. We replaced the old, yellowed seat, scrubbed out the inside with a pumice stone, and viola — the toilet looked new again.
Then it broke. And still, it seemed the more economical decision was to replace the parts inside the tank that needed replacing.
Then something went wrong with the tank. I’m not sure what, but it required the purchase of a new tank.
After that, the toilet decided it wanted to start flushing, on occasion, of its own accord.
And frankly, I was okay with that. I mean… I only have so much energy to expend on a toilet, you know?
Then a couple of days ago, I noticed some type of store-bought packaging sitting in the bathroom with — you guessed it — toilet parts inside. I guess some of my earth-friendly endeavors have worn off on Justin (or the water bill wore out his wallet), because he decided he no longer wanted our home graced with a ghost flushing toilet.
I thought it would be a quick job, but as is the case with all DIY projects, you have to account for the unexpected.
I try to do that, and I try to stay patient, but nothing — and I mean nothing — prepared me for the moment yesterday when Justin yelled from the bathroom, “Can you please open the door to the garage for me?”
I walked over to the garage door and held it open butler-style, as my husband, arms encumbered with the disemboweled body of our porcelain God, ran past.
Apparently something was wrong with the way the toilet was screwed into the floor.
Apparently parts of our subfloor are now stripped.
Apparently this is going to be a much bigger job than we expected.
Apparently… toilets can also be metaphors for relationships. They’re always more work than you think, but worth the extra effort in the end.