We thought we were smart.
We had strategically booked our kitchen renovation to take place when we were out of the province for 10 days on our glorious cross country summer vacation, while my parents (who live with us, remember?) stuck around and acted as Project Managers. Perfect. Done.
Nothing like shucking off responsibilities to the 'rents and bailing... Phrases like, "Goodbye, see yah, wouldn't wanna be yah" come to mind. I'm such an asshole. And I guess the Universe agreed...
Because our trip plans got kiboshed (more on that later) and we ended up spending our 10-day vacation living through our kitchen renovations.
Or maybe I should re-phrase that.
We spent our 10-day vacation living through hell.
Hot, sticky, dusty, HELL. It was too hot to play outside, and too dangerous to play inside. And then it rained, and rained and rained. You can only make so many trips to Home Depot to "play" before the employees start giving you the evil eye.
Thankfully we were able to make the most of it, and get away for a few days here and there. We went camping, we went to the zoo, we went to a cottage. So it wasn't all bad.
And I suppose it is a sort of right-of-passage to have to live through your own kitchen renovation, right? So that you really appreciate and love every last square inch of your new space because you've been "dining room camping" with hot-plates and a microwave for the past 3...4...10 weeks?
I do have an unnatural love for my new fridge and sparkly quartz countertops...
I find myself sitting at our new kitchen island, gazing longingly at my gas stove. I think I'm making my husband jealous.
But, we made it, and our reno is 95% finished. We just need a backsplash...
And through this renovation process, Cole has become even more obsessed with power tools. He constantly walks around the kitchen with his toddler toy drill and "fixes" things. When he bends over, his ass-crack appropriately pokes out of the back of his diaper. A true tradesperson.
(If that last comment is offensive, I'm sorry. Doctors have messy handwriting, and tradespeople show their ass-cracks. Okay, maybe that's called a STEREOTYPE but, at least I was non-gender specific when stating the job title. I get points for that, right?)
Printer-friendly version