If only more Americans had bought fixer-uppers.
Maybe I better explain.
My first house was in need of major renovations. Boy, did my father and I suffer when we improved the bathroom.
The project started well enough. We tore down the old wall tile and put up wallpaper and a tub surround. We repainted, then put down a new floor. All we had to do to was reinstall the commode.
The bolts that had secured the toilet to the floor had both broken. The hardware-store guy sold me a kit to reattach them.
My father spent an hour reattaching the bolts. But as we attempted to fish the bolts through the commode’s bolt holes, we discovered they were too short.
“Son of a ... !” said my father.
“The idiots gave us the wrong bolts!” I said.
I raced to the hardware store and bought longer bolts. My father spent another hour getting them in place. We were finally able to reattach the commode.
But another problem arose: the wax goop that seals the commode to the sewage pipe wasn’t thick enough to seal anything.
“Son of a ... !!” said my father.
“The idiots gave us the wrong goop!” I said.


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