Just this weekend, my two oldest (ages 7 and 5 ½) came downstairs for a drink break and my son lamented, “This house is junk.”

“Yeah, the people that built this house didn’t know anything,” continued my daughter.

Wanting to adjust their view of God’s gracious providence, I almost commenced with a “Now, now…” speech. But then I realized that they were working upstairs on remodeling the bathroom with my husband, and so I knew where they got their propaganda.

While my husband is the eternal optimist in our marriage, he does possess a keen radar and scathing commentary for shoddy workmanship. Not that I blame him. One time he took down a wall in our kitchen to look for termites. Not uncovering any termites there, instead, he found that the previous owners had repaired former damage themselves and forgot (?!?) to put insulation back in the wall and left open access to the outside. Without the drywall, you could see sunlight. Even I knew that you aren’t supposed to do that.

Then there is the fact that the original owners designed the house themselves and probably should have spent a few dollars getting an architect to look at the plans. But back to the bathroom remodeling job: they put the cabinets in before the tile and baseboards. The reason why this is bad is because when the new owners need to replace the water-damaged cabinets and countertops, said owners will tear out the old cabinets and find no flooring underneath them, setting the project back a few hours. Besides, it’s just not right.

The reason why we are tackling the bathroom now (beside the fact that it needs to be done) is because it just doesn’t feel right living in The Scott House without at least one room completely under construction. It’s been almost a whole month without anything torn apart, and it just wasn’t right having the house in one piece. We buy houses for their basic structure. The walls, ceilings, doorways, counters, and flooring are all peripheral. They’re just details.

And so, the kids grab two glasses of water and an extra one for their dad. While I cast a cursory glance at their math books, they return to their father’s side, where they acquire their real education.