In Other Words with Dave

There we were at the Home & Garden Show, standing in front of the perfect bathroom display: a gleaming white freestanding tub, a floating double vanity with beautiful stainless fixtures, and a glass-enclosed shower. Alison said, “Our bathroom could look like this.” 

And just like that, our bathroom remodel went from “someday” to “apparently this weekend.” After getting a few quotes, thrifty Alison suggested we handle the tub and tile demolition ourselves. “It’ll be something we can do together. It’ll be fun.” Those are famous last words in the home improvement world. As she headed to Lowe’s to buy a 12-pound sledgehammer, I checked our prenup for a “no demo” clause — nope. Hand me my safety glasses; I guess we’re doing this. 

She pointed me toward our first target: our built-in cast-iron bathtub. A 1970s relic. Solid. Indestructible. Basically, a Cold War bunker disguised as plumbing. I hoisted up the sledgehammer and let gravity do most of the work. 

My progress was… slow. Standing safely outside my swing radius, Alison offered encouragement, “Maybe hit it a little harder.” That’s when the thoughts started creeping in: “Maybe I could fake a minor medical emergency?” and “Perhaps we should just move.” 

But I kept swinging. And eventually, 300 pounds of cast iron surrendered. We stood there, staring at a pile of rubble where our bathroom used to be, both proud and slightly concerned about our decision-making skills. 

The good news is we saved money. The better news is we didn’t spend those savings on a chiropractor or an ER visit. Up next is floor tile demolition and ibuprofen, not necessarily in that order.