Then ... then ... the flooring guys returned this morning. These are the dudes who installed the hardwoods the first time but failed to take our inadequate subflooring into account.
We waited two weeks for this day. The head installer's wife has been in intensive care on and off for that amount of time (The LevelHead Curse continues -- this is the second contractor/relative of contractor I've put in the hospital).
But the boys showed up bright and early to start the repair. I wasn't really sure what the plans were, but it turns out they're tearing up the floor at the entrance, putting down leveling compound and then putting the hardwoods back.
I kind of got the feeling the head guy wants me to pay a price for tattling to the company's installation manager about his work. He kept talking about how they were going to have to move everything out of the living room, put down leveling compound two days straight and basically make our lives a living Hades during their tenure.
But I just smiled sweetly and agreed to everything. I was so proud of myself -- I never apologized for their having to come back (during younger years, I would have begged their forgiveness); didn't start groveling when the head dude said he'd have to pay for the replacement flooring himself and generally acted like an adult who had the expectation of quality work. Wow, I guess there are some good parts about getting older.
So they totally tore up part of the living room floor and moved furniture to block every available walking path in the process. It was off to the restaurant again tonight, but hopefully, only for two nights. Then we'll start the road to normal again.
After how long it's taken to get most of this kitchen done, what's two more days. Heck, that's little more than the blink of an eye in contractor time ...
Our living room in complete chaos, yet again.
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