Asbestos? What asbestos?

Met with our incredible handyman yesterday, who also happens to be our cabinet maker. He is SO honest, you almost think there's got to be a catch, like he's going to be found out as the biggest serial killer since Ted Bundy (that dates me, huh?).

Anyway, Mr. Honest (that's what we'll call him) and his son came to take down the kitchen soffits. I had to go to work, so I just gave them general instructions, and they were off and running. Before I left, I mentioned that we were going to take out the kitchen floor this coming weekend and asked if he had any words of wisdom for us demo newbies.

He talked about using a floor scraper and that he had one we could borrow (he's just so darn nice!). So I was off to work to help our future leaders (I work part-time at LevelHead Jr.'s school). After my time there, I came home to find The Honest Boys gone. I was looking admiringly where the soffits used to be and commenting to myself how much bigger the kitchen looked now. I was all smiles until I happened to look down and see half the vinyl floor gone!

Mr. Honest and Son had removed two layers of flooring, which may or may not have contained asbestos. There were little vinyl chips and dust everywhere. Our plans to pretend we were a hazmat team when removing the floor were now down the drain (which I hope was not insulated with asbestos, as well.).

But how could I be angry? Mr. Honest had done the work out of the goodness of his heart -- simply because he's one of the nicest guys ever to hit the home improvement world. I immediately called him to see how this demo had come about, and he said he just wanted to see how hard it would be. When I asked him the difficulty score, he said "very."

So I quickly started spraying everything down with the only squirt bottle I had, but it was like trying to get drunk by inhaling wine corks -- it just wasn't enough.

Then my friend came to meet for lunch, and I warned her that she might be breathing in asbestos fumes; she lived in Japan during the nuclear disaster there, so she thought her internal radiation would devour any asbestos particles.

So my only option now is to go into complete denial: that floor had no asbestos and anyone who tells me differently can take a flying leap from one of our upstairs windows, that is, if they actually opened and weren't painted shut. But what else can I do? There's no point in getting it tested now; the damage, if any, has been done.

So Mr. Hubby and I only have to take out HALF a floor this weekend using our universal precautions, which will involve keeping the floor damp and wearing our masks. The poor Honest Boys were not wearing any protection -- are we about to be sued? But I didn't ASK them to do the work; they completely volunteered when I wasn't even around.

All I can do now is try to clean everything up and hope for the best and keep reminding myself what the county inspector told me about asbestos used in flooring not being as dangerous as some other types. I've almost got myself convinced already ...