I never loved the wall paper in the powder room. I liked the golden hue it radiated, but essentially, it was gold and black, and outdated. For a year or two, I lived with it, not giving it much thought. I had bigger fish to fry, like painting the foyer, and the kitchen, the upstairs lime green bathroom, the boys’ rooms, and the laundry room.
As time went by, both my boys started using the toilet, which, if you have boys, you know, doesn’t necessarily mean that they actually pee in the potty, though they try (I think). As a result of all their inaccuracy, the wallpaper, adjacent to the toilet, started to peel. One of the boys, it’s not exactly clear which one, because no one was taking responsibility, started to pick at the spot. I guess it was their version of reading the newspaper, if you get my drift.
To further complicate matters, one day, one of my sons, and not the one you would think, got really angry and slammed the door open as hard as he could. I can’t remember why. Maybe he was having a fit over not having toilet paper? I don’t know. What I do know is that he put a huge hole in the wall (and that I was really annoyed).
Children are so precious.
But still, we went with it and did our best to patch it in, because as you well know, I wanted to move, not remodel.
We all know how that went.
So, we decided no more. No more selling (at least for now), no more living in a house that we just felt ok about. We decided to go ahead with some minor renovations, re-tiling and replacing the bathroom vanity, which meant the wall paper had to go, too. In my mind, that was a good thing, that is, until I started trying to remove it.
I started. I stopped. I started again, and then I got busy with other things, and then I stopped, again. And so, the walls sat there, looking like a big ‘ol mess.
Until the other night, when I took an hour, after the kids went to bed, to start stripping again (the wall paper that is) and actually made some progress. It inspired me. So, yesterday, I went back to work, and I worked, and worked some more. I worked between drop off and pick up, and drop off, again. When the boys got home from school, I put them to work. One, earned some money picking, and chatting, and peeling away with me. One, started to work, and decided that he would rather earn his money watching his younger sister (if that’s what you call watching Spongebob on the couch, together) while his more industrious, younger brother and I were holed up in a literal sweat shop, the steamer going full blast, working its magic on the stubborn wall paper. (I knew my impulsive steamer purchase, meant to compensate for my lack of ironing skills, would eventually pay off).
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I was determined to get every last note off that wall, but, alas, after five hours of hard work, I fell just short of my goal. There are two small patches behind the light fixture and one, next to the cabinet, that still have to be worked on, but other than that, we are note free.
Does that mean I am done? That the walls are no longer a mess? Not by a long shot. This could have been the worst wall paper to remove, ever. Not one piece came off intact, and so now, before I can even start to think about painting, I have to contend with all these tiny pieces of wall paper backing.Which brings me back to the power of pee. Yesterday, as I was working away, completely exasperated by the difficult task at hand, I couldn’t help but be amazed by the awesome power of pee. Not only can you drink it in extreme emergencies (or so I’ve heard), it also happens to be an excellent remover of wall paper. Perhaps, instead of constantly reminding the boys to be more careful where they were aiming, I should have just let them pee all over the walls. It may have been smelly, but at least I would have saved six hours, or so, of work.
TGIW! If your traveling tonight, be safe. If I don’t get a chance to blog, tomorrow, which I hope I do, Happy Thanksgiving.