Heather has long talked about wanting to add a full bathroom to our home because we just don’t have enough stress in our lives.
I can understand why she wants one. We have three children who treat our current bathrooms as second homes. But still, I just can’t yet justify the cost versus the reward. Then there’s the whole “we can’t afford it” issue. Although that’s made it possible for us to appear shrewd and practical. We’re not tight, we’re just savvy discerning shoppers!
According to Remodeling Magazine, the cost of adding a new bathroom ranges from an average of $40,700 for a 6′x8′ bathroom addition to an average of $78,400 for a 10′x10′ bathroom addition.
I can only assume these prices include diamond-encrusted toilet paper holders, gold-plated platinum faucets, and your own personal heinie wiper (referred to by the rich as a “buttler”) because I just can’t figure out how they arrived at these figures.
The quotes I received from guys who held an outstretched thumb to one opened eye ranged from a modest “three to five grand” to “you’re looking at about $7,000 if you go all out.” Even adding in Heather’s Wish List of a whirlpool tub, ceiling shower, and actual matching toilet wouldn’t push the cost over $10,000. You could also set aside another $10,000 for “unplanned incidentals” like a flat-screen TV, pool table, and mini-fridge, and STILL pay 50% less than the snooty magazine rate.
Could you justify spending $40,000 for a 6′x8′ bathroom that isn’t even capable of housing a tub? All you’d really get for your money is the luxury of options when it came time to pee. Between you and me, and anyone with a clear view of our backyard, I already have options. Lots of them.
They’re called trees.
As a man, I’m hardwired to be content peeing on anything but myself. And if drunk, even THAT is a judgment call. But Heather isn’t furnished with the equipment or lack of decency it takes to be able to drop trow in public, so her options when nature calls are pretty limited. As such, the only way she can enjoy the same ‘Stop, Drop, and Go’ advantage as men is to make sure multiple potty stations are located throughout the home.
Not wanting to begrudge her a creature comfort, but also knowing a bathroom addition wasn’t feasible, I looked into installing a ceiling shower so she could at least cross one item off her wish list.
I’ve never worked with plumbing before. And until this summer, I’ve never even really worked with a wrench before. Still, I thought it’d be a nice DIY project and a nice introduction into single-handedly destroying our home through self-confidence.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on how you look at it, I didn’t have to lift a finger to give my wife a ceiling shower. Gravity and Kamryn’s bath time did it for me.
When taking a bath, Kamryn is known to expel more water from her holding tank than Shamu. If you’re in the vicinity of the bathroom, you’re in what’s known as the “Splash Zone.” Panicked swimmers don’t thrash around as much as she does and we have the repeatedly soaked floors to prove it.
We never really thought much of it until today when a pool of water bored a hole in our ceiling and cascaded into the office below. Apparently, the seal between the tub and our tile was cracked so water simply collected underneath. Over time, the water gathered, pooled, and gained mass until it finally broke free.
The water dripped steadily on our printer, computer desk, and less than five inches from our Power Supply unit that housed eight active plugs. I’m not sure what effect a bucket of water has on electrical current but I’m certain it can’t be good. While the water destroyed a lot of paperwork, damaged our ceiling, and made a mess of the office, I still consider us lucky because it could have turned out much worse. It could have hit my DVD collection.
For now, we’ve relocated the office into Kamryn’s room and relocated Kamryn into ours since she always ends up there anyway. It’s actually been a nice change and we’re now contemplating our options. Do we patch up the hole and return the room to its office glory? Or do we embrace this mini-flood as a head start to our addition?
I guess it all depends on how much we’d save with the ceiling shower already being in place. I’d hate to just return it to an office if the ceiling shower equated to like $5,000 of the $7,000 remodeling budget. If all we’d have left is some tile, a toilet, gold-plated faucets, and those diamond-encrusted toilet paper holders, then why not finish it up?
Even if we don’t opt for the addition, I’m still going to look into hiring my own personal heinie wiper. I just think it’d be nice to have someone to talk to while I’m in there. Not to mention the corny comedic value of always exiting the bathroom with, “Heather. Guess what? The buttler did it.”