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TO REMODEL, OR
NOT TO REMODEL

   I have lived in the same house for 35 years. The reason I haven't moved is because I love my house.  Everything about it suits me just fine. We did an extensive remodel in 1997, only 26 years ago. Everything turned out fine, and I couldn't be more comfortable or happy.
   Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, I'm not the only one living in the house. My wife lives with me, and she doesn't appreciate stability quite as much as I do.
   "We need to remodel our Master Bathroom and Kitchen," she announced a few months ago. "They're both dated."
   "First of all, you can't say 'Master Bathroom' anymore," I replied, surprising her with my wokeness. "It's 'Primary Bathroom,' and it looks and works just fine, as does our kitchen."
   She was more interested in my wokeness than she was in my opinion of how our house looked. According to a survey of 490 home remodel contractors, the breakdown of remodeling decision makers in households was 55% women, 28% joint and 17% men. I didn't even come close to joining the joint category.
   She immediately began searching for an interior designer to create a spectacular Primary Bathroom, which no one would ever see, and a state-of-the-art kitchen, which would replace what I considered our state-of-the-art kitchen. She found one, Guido (not his real name, but close), and they quickly began searching for tiles, sinks, bathtubs, flooring and cabinets.
   They were spending a lot of time together and I was not part of the equation, nor did I want to be. I decided I was going to treat the finished product like a vacation rental---I'd walk in and be completely surprised. My wife has great taste, and I was sure Guido did, too.
    As for their spending so much time shopping together, I had zero concerns. I naturally assumed Guido was gay.
   "YOU FOUND THE ONLY HETEROSEXUAL  MALE INTERIOR DESIGNER IN THE COUNTY!" I cried when she eventually told me that Guido was married with two sons. "I HOPE YOU GOT A BARGAIN!"
   "You're stereotyping," she replied, questioning my wokeness. "He's very, very good and I like him a lot."
   Well, I didn't, and I hadn't even met him. But once again, I had nothing to say about it. Guido was now part of our lives. All I wanted was for him to be gentle with me.
   He wasn't. The Primary Bathroom was the first project, and it was completed a few weeks ago. Our built-in Jacuzzi tub, which we never used, was ripped out and replaced with a free-standing fru-fru tub that we'll never use. New tile, new flooring, new cabinets and new plumbing everywhere.
    Guido and my wife were thrilled with the result. I also thought it looked great. BUT I THOUGHT THE OLD BATHROOM LOOKED GREAT! I had no thrill, not even close. It was time to move on to the kitchen.
    Off they went, the heterosexual designer and my wife, shopping again. Guido was everything my wife ever wanted in a man---he had taste and he enjoyed spending other people's money. Where had I gone wrong?
    We're now in the middle of the kitchen remodel. We're eating take-out food in the living room and will be for another month or so. I have no idea what Guido and my wife have concocted in their sojourns, and I don't care. I just want it to be done.
   I did finally meet Guido, though. Not a bad guy, even though he was costing me a fortune. I didn't even mention to him that 83% of interior designers are women and only 17% are men, let alone heterosexual men. I thought it best to stay away from those facts.
    Meanwhile, I have no idea what the kitchen will look like when it's done, but I have faith in Guido and my wife. If they say it needs a facelift after 26 years, so be it. I don't agree, but I have faith that I'm wrong.
    I do know one thing for sure, though. I'm putting my foot down next time. There's no way I'm going through this again in the year 2049.

 

 

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