And now for your entertainment on this fine Monday morning, a (slightly disgusting) tale from the trenches of marriage and home ownership. Warning, guys: this gets a little real.
So. Before we moved into the new house, we had the original hardwood floors refinished and new kitchen and bathroom floors put in. We chose this most gorgeous, white, lovely hexagon tile for the bathroom floor and it was the very last thing to get installed before we moved in. It was grouted and sealed and we moved in while it was still setting, so we couldn’t walk in that bathroom for a day or two.
On the evening of our third night in the house, we started having plumbing problems. The other bathroom wasn’t draining properly and we were trying to fix it with a good old fashioned plunger. About an hour later, I walked to the back end of the house, passing by the bathroom with the new tile floor. And I stopped dead. Flooded. It was flooded with you-don’t-even-want-to-know-what. The toilet had overflowed and flooded the new tile, into the hallway on the hardwood and all the way into our bedroom. Just thinking back on it right now I have a sick feeling in my stomach, it was so out of control.
So there we were, three nights into our new home, a guest staying with us, barely-sealed tile completely buried under a soggy mess, all of our towels packed away in some box somewhere. We panicked for about three minutes, and then we got ourselves together. Mr. Lovely was so distraught about the tile his reaction was to just kind of freeze. My instinct is always to clean. So I made a plan and he helped me execute (keep in mind that I’m about 8 months pregnant at this point, making lots of running and fetching extremely slow). Eventually we got into a rhythm of cleaning, rinsing, scrubbing, sopping up water with rags, and we got it all cleaned. I think I scrubbed the floor three times over that night.
My point is this: home ownership is a nonstop thrill ride of things that break and things that cost a zillion dollars. And that early initiation made us realize that when terror (or an overflowing toilet) strikes, we have nobody to lean on but each other. I’m hoping that whatever else comes with owning this adorable little home will be equally manageable as a team. And by the way, the tile is fine.
Do you own a house? I would love to commiserate about your crazy tales of home ownership! xoxo