I’ve finally convinced my accountant husband (Did you catch that—accountant?) that our twenty-seven-year-old master bath needs a make-over. I’ve been collecting ideas for this event for the past ten years, so I have a pretty good idea of what I want. But just to be sure I wasn’t overlooking any new innovations, I researched some bathroom ideas online. My mind is reeling.
I’m still adjusting to the idea that every home needs a theater room, and now I learn I need a bathroom with a couch, a 72” flatscreen, and a shower with piped-in music and room for twenty people. I try to be modern and open-minded, but really. At what point did the bathroom replace the family or living room as the entertainment center for the home? When I’m bathing, the last thing I want is someone sitting on a couch, chatting with me while I scrub my...face. Or a crowd joining me in the shower as we sway to the salsa music and sip our margaritas. And am I to stay in the tub until I’m shivering and shriveled in order to watch an entire football game? Okay, half the game. I guess I can always towel off during half-time. And where is the toilet? I can’t imagine anyone desiring nearby company while using that particular fixture.
Call me squeamish, prudish, even uptight. I mean it. Call me those things. I don’t go into the sauna at the gym if I see a “nekked” woman in there. I just clutch my bath sheet a little tighter and wait until she vacates. This overdone modesty is most likely unhealthy and probably stems from my conservative upbringing. Or maybe from a poor body image inflicted on me during adolescence. But whatever the source of my damaged psyche, it’s there and I deal with it in my own way. Quite frankly, at this point in my life, it’s a lot easier and cheaper to avoid nekked sauna people—or entertaining in the bathroom—than it is to seek therapy.
So back to the re-do. I have four requirements for the new bath: 1) no wallpaper 2) updated fixtures 3) plenty of storage 4) easy maintenance. Of course, I want it to be pretty and functional, but one of the functions doesn’t need to be housing a party. Call me a party pooper—no pun intended—but I’m keeping the toilet and tub in the bathroom and the margarita machine in the kitchen.
Come right in! The party's in the bathroom.