Grout is the devil in sandy sticky form.

Wednesday night Logan grouted the tiles surrounding the bathtub because as much fun as it's been to shower at the YMCA and various friend's houses, we're ready to shower at our own house now.

Last night Logan had a well deserved (he's worked every single day since last Tuesday on either the bathroom, freelance, or his regular job) happy hour, so I decided to take on the bathroom floor grouting. Because if I didn't do the grouting, Logan would have to do it Friday night, which means we wouldn't have a toilet or shower until Monday or maybe even Tuesday.

When the port-a-john was delivered 9 days ago, I held my breath each time I used it. I had an aversion to the stench of the port-a-johns I've endured at various concerts and so I assumed this port-a-john would smell the same.

After about 10 visits to the port-a-john, I took a deep breath. It smelled a little like a scratch and sniff sticker. A strawberry one! This port-a-john wasn't so bad after all. In fact, I started to mosey out to the port-a-john in my pajamas with toothbrush in hand. In the dark, I didn't even need a flashlight to check for mice or snakes anymore. The port-a-john and I got casual with each other. I started to think, "Maybe we'll just leave this thing here and let the boys use it. Then Maddie and I can have a nice pristine girl's bathroom."

If you ever wondered how many visits it takes to make a Port-A-John smell disgusting the answer is: just over 9 days of The Summers (though I pooped away for the first, 7 or so days). It's not quite rancid yet but it's starting to be unpleasant and I'm starting to feel a little desperate for the God Damn Fucking Grout to cure so we can put the Stupid Fucking Toilet back in place.

This makes an interesting math problem: "If it takes one Summers family of four 9 days to make a Port-a-John unpleasant, how many days would it take two Summers families to make a Port-a-John unpleasant?" Answer: 4.5! Bring on the third grade math!

Today I went to my friend Leslie's to take a shower (she's out of town, take that YMCA!), took Max to visit his kindergarten teacher and then we went to Architectural Salvage Warehouse in Detroit to look for a sink to replace the Sink Which Tried To Kill Me.

Thank you to Emily who suggested a salvage place in the comments of my post about nearly Dying At The Hands Of My Sink. Since I live in a bubble I thought the places around me would be far too expensive, so I didn't think of anywhere outside of 'around me'. You see I live in Royal Oak, which is just 20 or so miles from Detroit. When the rich people in Birmingham and Bloomfield Hills want a bargain, they come to Royal Oak which is 'slumming it' for them. Therefore all the antiques and salvage here are way overpriced, unless you're at the Flea Market on Sunday after 11am or if you're from Birmingham or Bloomfield Hills.

Detroit, I know you scare the shit out of me (wow, that's an old post, look how far Detroit and I have come) sometimes, but you really came through with the sink. $40, an amazing warehouse with friendly shopkeepers where I will be going back again and again. But hopefully not for a bathroom sink.

We had a relatively busy day, since I've been storing my energy for the last month to maintain my endurance for the bull shit which is the final week of summer vacation. But then, I needed to grout the bathroom floor.

At first, in that first upper corner of the bathroom floor, I thought, "Gee, why don't I do more home improvement projects while Logan's at work? This is FUN!"

By the middle of the floor I was giving myself pep talks, "What the hell? Chris has SEVEN kids and she refinished a claw foot tub. Keep it together Melissa."

By the end of the floor my entire body was coated in grout and I wanted to take that stupid grout float and smear grout on the entire house. I wanted to grout the entire house for no other reason than: I was deranged with the grout.

(Kids: "What's for dinner?" Me, covered in grout: "Grout's for dinner! What do you think is for dinner?" Kids: "Is Daddy coming home soon?")

This is why I don't do home improvement projects while Logan's at work.

But then today as I drove home from Showering At Leslie's (is that not a porn movie waiting to happen?) we drove by The Other House, not The House, but a similarly appealing one a block away. As we passed, I noticed a sign, a metal sign usually used as a 'For Sale' sign, but this sign had been rigged with a homemade sign.

It read, "Neighborhood Happy Hour. Here. Tonight 6-9pm."

At first I wanted to cry, because I want a neighborhood happy hour so bad I've created cocktails named after the streets I'd like to live on. But then I realized this is why I'm Crazy Crabby Grout Lady With The Port-A-John in her driveway. I'm working towards a goal. I'm working towards not just Neighborhood Happy Hour, but also having neighbors I would like to have happy hour with.

But still, if I have to do another coat of grout, I'm going to throw that Port-A-John into the middle of the street and I'm going to run over it with the car repeatedly.

Comments

[Amy at Fannfare]

Circa 1988: I was at the Independence Day celebration on The Mall in Washington, DC, lamely watching The Beach Boys perform. I had accepted some "mushrooms" (in quotes because I didn't know what the hell they were) from some cowboys up front, and though they tasted foul -- pretty soon the Beach Boys were my favorite band. When the need arose, I headed into a port-a-john. Much to my shroomy dismay, there was a line of ne'er-do-wells sitting on top of the port-a-johns, and they thought it would be funny to TIP ME OVER. Thankfully, they went backwards, so I could crawl out as if from a coffin.

This was not, however, before the blue-hell-liquid tainted with 30,000 people's beer-filled wee and CA-CA had covered my entire back.

The police !!! took pity on me as I emerged like a phoenix from the tilted toilet and propped me up ON TOP OF THE LADDER OF A FIRE ENGINE for the pyrotechnics.

I didn't mention the 'shrooms to them.

Can you imagine? A shit-stained 20-something whacked out on hallucinogens watching the fireworks atop a cherry-picker?

I would NOT suggest this in your driveway.

:) Amy

[Wallydraigle]

You know what would be awesome? If, when you were done, you moved the Port-a-John from your driveway to they neighbors' yard--in the exact spot they had a toilet. And then if you left a nice note on the door apologizing for the removal of the toilet, explaining that you hope the bigger, better, smellier and uglier version will make up for their loss.

Or maybe that's only awesome in my head.

[RespectRx]

Never was there such a perfect blog post for me to finally share a port-a-potty factoid I've been sitting on (ha!) for years. My friend's friend owned a port-a-potty company. Whenever they removed them, something really stuck out in the all muck: Totally whole multi-vitamins (with the writing still on them). Hmmmm.....

As far as DIY grouting. That is the only project I've been able to personally see through in my 100-yr-old fixer. It was only a 3x2 fireplace hearth. So seriously, hats off for seeing it through. Grouting is a bitch.

P.S. We thought we were going to have to rent our house out to move for my husband's job (like one day after we'd finished all our projects!). But we didn't move after all--yahoo! Here's our before and afters. You can get through it. Paint is magical! Using outdoor lighting inside is cheap and magical! A good handyman can save your marriage! (as you know!)

bEFORE
http://www.flickr.com/photos/56333929@N00/sets/72157594196052029/

aFTER
http://www.flickr.com/photos/56333929@N00/sets/72157594190780508/

[Mrs Ca]

Glad you found a new sink, and congrats on grouting the floor. I feel the same way about home improvement projects - excited at the beginning, wanting to give up in the middle, and downright crazy at the end.

Just thought you'd want to know you're not the only one.

[chris]

Glad to hear you found a new sink.

Oh, and refinishing a clawfoot tub is easy compared to grouting. I grouted once while I was home alone with my two youngest and they trashed the house. Not only did I look on helplessly, since my hands were covered in grout, but I also encouraged it so they would stay away and stop playing in the bucket.

Here's hoping you are finally pooping in your own toilet.

[The Real Kato]

I am also grouting, and I hate it. I'd done it before and it didn't seem so bad, but this time I did it wrong (didn't clean up fast enough), so there's a film of grout residue on the tiles that only comes off with military-strength scrubbing. Grrr.

[Runder]

I feel for you on the Port-a-Jon thing, I did it for 9 months as we tried to put in two bathrooms and a kitchen into a house that had never had indoor plumbing before (seriously, the outhouse was still in the backyard). After firing the first plumber and hiring a second and the pipes freezing because the HVAC wasn't finished in time, we finally got all that shit (HAH!) worked out. The scariest moment was when a tree frog came out attached to the toilet paper when I pulled a piece down. I'm sorry about the smell.

My one recommendation is to go ahead and have that thing cleaned out. Ours was cleaned out every Wednesday and it was well worth it. I would race to be the first one to use it freshened, but my husband claimed that it was better later that day when the chemicalness had worn off a little.

Good luck!

[KatieS]

Oh Melissa-- I think I'm screwed now that you've pointed out the ASW. Was it as fun there as it looks on the website? I have already called my partner and alerted her that we will be going there ASAP.

[Dana]

I too am working towards having neighbors that I'd like to have a happy hour with. If I wanted to have a happy hour with my current neighbors, I'd have to buy a Natty Lite six pack and walk over to their driveway where all the big trucks are parked and junkyard dogs have gathered.
Then they'd see my and my husband's pale necks and know that we are not one of them.
Good luck.

[Mrs X]

The only Happy Hour I can envision with my neighbors involves slipping crushed valium into their drinks. Or mine. Whatever.

I can't wait to see the finished project!

[Christine]

Wow! You grouted the floor yourself? You are more woman then me. We are painting and re-carpeting three of our bedrooms and I've left almost all of it to my husband. I keep telling him if I wanted to do home improvement projects myself I would have stayed single. As you can imagine, he loves it when I say that. ;)

[Susan]

Did you see that Chris painted her mudroom today?

I, on the other hand, stood in front of the GAPING CRACK in the drywall in my kitchen and said strings of swear words that had never been used together before.

That's as much DYI as I can handle these days.

[m.]

Holy cats, I've been namechecked by Melissa! Brush with greatness! So glad that Google and I could help -- we have a similar salvage place here in Boston and when I saw your poor dead sink it came to mind. WOOOHOOOOO, $40 SINK! Looking forward to the Flickr stream of the awesome finished bathroom... :) emily