Is it safe to wear earplugs for a month?

The sounds of deconstruction, while expected, are nonetheless a bit disturbing. We are only at the beginning of Day 2 of the Great Guest Bathroom Remodel of 2013 but I might be joining the cats under the bed by the end of the week.

Randy arrived this morning with a crowbar. I just heard a tile break. I'm pretty sure a hippopotamus is attempting to break dance up there. The cats are wisely under the exact middle of our bed. It's going to be a long day.

We've discussed bits and pieces of this remodel for nearly a decade. Earlier this year, while tidying up after the departure of a guest, the idea for a full-fledged update entered that dangerous part of my brain where other "how hard can it be?" schemes take up residence. It lives next door to the "must flee now" part. These neighboring areas in my brain have one of those pass-through doors like adjoining rooms in hotels to allow for easy communal living. I just pulled a comfy chair into the "must flee now" room. I'm going to be here for a spell.

Until moments ago, the bathroom was largely in its original state from when the house was built 20 years ago. The woman who decorated the brand new house loved wallpaper, flowers, and the color combination of mauve and powder blue. The guest bathroom is the last striking reflection of this screamin' '80s decor with purple-trimmed mauve tiles. The floor tiles have little blue and pink flowers in the corners. The fixtures are polished brass.

More troubling than the aesthetics, though, is the near need for an instructional video for how to use the shower. Somehow the Hot-Cold nozzle was installed upside down, with screws that subsequently rusted making an easy replacement impossible. It wasn't long after we moved in that a shivering guest delicately asked about the assumed but seemingly elusive presence of a hot water heater in our new home. Henceforth, all guests have been greeted with "Welcome to Woodhaven! We're so glad you're here. Now please take a seat while I explain how to operate our bathroom."

So at the end of this...scheduled to be a nail-biting four days before my mom arrives for Thanksgiving...we shall have a delightfully self-explanatory bathroom for our guests. Until then, Rob and I are trying to remind ourselves that despite the commotion, the house is sturdy, our contractor experienced and confident, and our only responsibility is to write checks.

Really, how hard can it be?