I have three bathrooms in my house. The one that my boys use is one I try and stay out of. I don’t clean it, it’s their responsibility, and as such it gets pretty nasty. So nasty in fact that when people come to my house one of the first warnings they get is not to enter the boy’s bathroom under any circumstances. Every now and then, of course, I’m forced to go in there, to pull the hand towels and throw rug for laundry, and each time I am disgusted and holler something about cleaning it up. They do, sometimes.
There were a few holes in the wall that I needed to have fixed. The door stop had been removed (because the dog, when he was a puppy, thought it was a play toy) and so the doorknob put a hole in the wall and then there were a couple of other dings and dents. I had them fixed and the painting was left to me. I don’t have time to paint, but I figured I would find the time because I hated looking at the white primer spots all over my house (there were some in my living room, hallway, up the stairwell, etc.). Four months passed and I hadn’t found the time to paint. So I hired someone.
My painter had done some other work for me before. He is a nice man, and does great work, at a fair cost, quickly. I called him and asked him to come and give me an estimate for all the painting. While we were standing in the boy’s bathroom he asked me if I had any of the paint color (because I had quite a bit of paint for various rooms in my house in the garage). I told him no, this was one of the few rooms I had no paint for. He gave me a questioning look and I said “since the whole bathroom needs to be repainted just get a similar color.”
It wasn’t very manly for a boy’s bathroom, but it’s my house, not theirs and they never complained. I happen to like purples, even though this was the only room in the house with purple paint. Of course it didn’t handle filth well, but what color does, really. I liked it.
My painter painted my entire downstairs, living room, dining room, and kitchen. He painted up the stair well, repainted all my banisters, doorframes, and the molding around the base of the walls; it looked like a brand new house when I came home on day 1. Day 2 was the day he put a second coat on everything and tackled the bathroom. When I came home from work he was in the bathroom and the door was closed. I tapped lightly and he opened it. When he opened it I was blinded.
This is a picture of the boy’s bathroom wall. The picture does not do it justice. You literally need sunglasses to go into the room, even at night. The hue does not match the rest of my house and clearly it is not in the purple family. . . . looks more pink, don’t you think?
When my painter opened the door and saw me standing there he smiled a big bright smile and lifted his hands to the wall as if to say “ta-da!” It was all I could do not to scream. It was, after all, my fault.
Home Depot is less than 2 miles from my house. I should have gone and picked up a can of a color I wanted on the wall so he could have had some sort of a roadmap. But for my laziness my boys get a pink/magenta/super bright bathroom.
Ah, well . . . maybe it will repel filth.