Sometimes I get impulsive and demo things without thinking through what comes after the dust settles. For some reason, after staring at the jumble of towel racks in our hall bathroom for the five hundredth time, I finally decided to take the hammer to them. Who really needs that many towel bars? And why was one placed so far off-center under the window that it stuck halfway into the shower curtain? There was clearly room for a small hand towel ring on the un-tiled wall next to the sink, so that oddly placed bar was driving me nuts.
I especially hated that half-under-the-window bar. I inspected the towel rods and decided the ones in the shower could stay since they’d be hidden by a curtain most of the time. I also noticed the mounts looked like they might be surface-mounted rather than inset, so I thought I could carefully pry them off and preserve the tile beneath for a seamless finish. I started with the offending off-center bar since it was my least favorite in the universe.
I very carefully chiseled at the mount with a flat-head screwdriver and a hammer. Tap… tap…
…and then, crap. The holders came off easily, but they weren’t surface-mounted; they were inset. So I was left with two very visible damaged tiles that looked like this:
I felt sick. John had no idea I was up to this — I was planning a proud “look what I did” reveal, not an “oops I ruined the original 60s tile” confession. At first I thought we could track down replacement tiles and Dremel out the damaged ones for a clean repair, but the longer I stared, the more obvious a simpler fix became. Look closely at the window — do you notice anything odd?
There was trim on the sides and top of the window, but not along the bottom. Adding a simple piece of white wood trim there would balance the window and cover one of the tile blemishes. We’d also been planning to hang the shower rod near the ceiling and use a long 95″ waffle shower curtain, which would drape in front of the other hole and hide it whether the curtain was open or closed (we usually push it toward the window when it’s open). That wouldn’t be a permanent fix like matching tile, but it would be a practical short-term solution.
So I sheepishly padded down the hall with my best “oops-I-went-crazy” expression and asked John for help adding a bit of trim and re-hanging the shower rod up high so we could hang the new curtain we’d bought. He didn’t jump up with enthusiasm, but he didn’t give me the stink eye either — he just started fixing my mess while I stood in the background holding the baby and flattering him with nonsense like “you look great in that hat” and “nobody hangs trim like you, babe.” I even got a smirk out of him.
John pried out the small faux trim piece under the windowsill with a flat-head screwdriver (a mini crowbar would also work). Then he cut a trim piece from our scrap pile, matching the profile of the other windows: straight cuts down each side with a small 45-degree diagonal on the bottom corners made with a miter box. He nailed the new trim in place with small finish nails driven at an angle toward the sill, and used a nail punch to sink the heads without denting the trim.
About twenty minutes and zero dollars later, any sign of my impulsive moment was gone. I painted the new trim with leftover trim paint we found in the basement, and it blended right in.
And yes, the next picture looks so white because John remembered to white balance before shooting. When I’m in demo mode I sometimes forget basic camera settings, so his photo gives a truer sense of the bright whites throughout the bathroom — the shower curtain, tile, walls, sink, and toilet.
It might be a stretch to call my tile incident a positive, and I may be in denial, but I do think the window looks better with trim on the bottom, so that part is sticking around. Hiding the other hole with the curtain is temporary until we find a matching tile and make a proper repair. Most importantly, the off-center towel bar that used to bother me every time I walked by is gone. Who would want their hand towel brushing against the toilet paper dispenser anyway?
I rest my case. Hooray for impulsive projects.