Are you kidding me?

   Everyone has a "most used" phrase. I have been mocked by my family for years for over using "are you kidding me?" and "really?" in a sarcastic annoyed tone. I feel it really brings home the point that I'm trying to express my extreme frustration with the situation or individual. It's better then "You're a real <insert crude swear>". How about a thank you, Ma? At least I watch my language some of the time.

   I told you that so the following story would make sense. Aaron's job yesterday was to begin the bathroom demolition. He insisted that he wouldn't be able to demo it all in one day and we wouldn't have time to buy the new install products. Preface: I have never lived through any kind of home project or demolition, I had little to no idea of what to expect. Driving home I rocked out to Katy Perry, having a grand ol' time. I got a text from my hub telling me he was playing softball and would "clean up condo when get back". OK. I pull up to the condo and to my dismay I was greeted with a terrifying visual of what went on in my home yesterday.

               Wow. That looks like the old bathtub and siding...why is it still sitting in the driveway?
    I start to walk towards our front door and see the ominous "drag marks" of what can only be described as a  bathroom corpse. I feel like I'm entering a crime scene.

   Oh. My. God. Walking, walking, walking. Started to shake in anticipation/terror. Openly angry that I wasn't forewarned.

   Wood. In our gardens. Excellent...I can't wait to see what's inside!! I creak open the front door, anxiety kicks in. I do not have OCD. But I am often asked if I do. I like things neat and  in order. The whole reason I was unsure about this project (though I knew it had to be done) was the terror that Aaron would start it and walk away mid-project and "get to it later". Day one- already happening. Softball which was not on the schedule, happened.

   Yes, that's the old bathroom mirror in my dining area. That Turk of course assumed was another cat upon approach and freaked. It's apparent now that nothing made it to the dump. Which was part of the plan. Start excavation and bring items to dump. I creep up the stairs, my heart pounding. I have no idea what I'm about to see. Think of those movies where someone is being chased by a murderous villain and they use the loud heart pounding sound effect over the scene. Am I being dramatic? Maybe. But this is what my beautiful guest room looks like yesterday and sits still as I write.

   *Hyperventilation* That's my brand new white bedspread from IKEA with tools and crap all over it. And where did that luggage in the background come from?? We put all that away! Did he take it back out to prop items on? I'm scared, I'm confused...I turn to the left...

   AHHHHHHH!!!!! Why is everything on the floor? My God why?! There are probably a million ways to go about disassembling a bathroom. My version would be similar to how I cook. Line everything up so I'm ready for it when it's time and I know where it all is. Aaron's version: dump it everywhere and figure it out later. (I just physically shuddered reliving this all...I hope you enjoy this post because I have the shakes).

  
   Now onto the part of the story that made Aaron smile with a look you give a 5 year old who asks if there are chocolate cows and say "what do you think gutting means?". Newsflash. I'm a GIRL. I don't "gut" rooms and leave the rubble for my spouse to find. But more on that later. I lean into the hole that is now my spare bathroom. It's totally dark and the hall light doesn't really illuminate it. I lean in (he had propped up the door sideways to keep certain curious animals from hiding in the walls) and attempt to turn on the 80's style lamp (that I loathe) that he stole from the spare room. Doesn't turn on. OK. I'll just take a picture of it and the flash should illuminate this madness.

                                   And that, my friends, is what a gutted bathroom looks like. 

 
   I felt so alone and frightened. I went for a jog in 100% humidity and choked the whole way. I needed to escape. When I got back Aaron was just arriving home as I was about to get into the shower. He came around the corner and I said "ohmygodwhydidn'tyoutellmewhattoexpect????!!". "<5 year old chocolate cow face> I told you I was gutting the bathroom!" he may as well have added "silly goose" to the end of that sentence. Great. I'm a kindergartner because I don't know what a gutted bathroom looks like. Thanks, guy.

   On a less frustrating note, I spent the best $3 EVER on a new deep conditioner from Aussie. I swear by  their Sprunch Spray which I use on curly hair days. At Stop & Shop they were running a 2 for $6 deal. SWEET. I grabbed this new product which I haven't laid eyes on prior. 3 Minute Deeeeeep Conditioner and I used it for the first time last night. Maybe it would improve my mood? The smell alone made me feel like I was back on my honeymoon. It smells like delicious Pina Colada! I don't know if that's what they were goin' for...but I approve. It was amazing. I would highly recommend it for anyone with dry or frizzy hair, especially in the summer nastiness.

   I hope everyone out there in blog-land has a wonderful day! This should help.

   Cat fight!! This fight earned Apollo the new nickname "Big Chief" from Aaron. That ball of fur really knows how to regulate. They adore each other. It's so cute to watch my big man be so gentle with the little man.   Then Turk will pop Apollo and run off. Oh to be young and feline...