As Ricky Ricardo said in reference to the imminent arrival of Little Ricky, the time has come. Except in this case, the long-in-the-works pantry-turned-powder-room and normal-height counters project is underway. Technically I had known the start date for a while, but it somehow only hit me late last week, as we had to start moving things out of the kitchen to make this all possible. There is currently no kitchen to speak of, but the fridge is at least in the dining room, allowing a makeshift if sinkless kitchen setup. The basement sink works for dishes, the bathroom one upstairs for the rest. It’s fine. I think.
We’re not moving out during the renovation (not necessary, but I get why if money were no object, one would), so the plan is to eat meals like in a dorm where you have a fridge and a private sink, a set-up I know well (I’m so cosmopolitan I have done this in Paris and Chicago), except never before with children. We chose to do this, I remind myself. I wanted this pantry toilet, and I want it still! All of this nonsense is for a goal, not a noble one, certainly, but a practical one.
Practical, but ridiculous.
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