Michael's parents were coming in for the weekend recently, and I couldn't stand to have them see again that awful black mold that I couldn't get rid of. It was downright embarrassing. And yet, even the cleaning lady I hired many months ago couldn't get it out, if you'll remember. I thought we were permanently stuck with it.
While walking through the Home Depot with Michael the other day, we randomly passed through aisle with endless tubes of caulk. So I threw one in our cart. And I picked up a little plastic applicator, too, which also doubled as a removal device.
Then, the other night, I spontaneously got to work, right after Liam went to sleep and just before Michael came out of the office. Nobody knew what I was up to, and I wore a protective gas mask. I removed all the moldy caulking. Then I applied it anew. The process took longer than I expected and had me consumed by earthquakes of mad frustration, but I kept silent. By the time Michael arrived in his pajamas for his last pee of the day, the task was complete.
Now the mold is completely gone and our bathtub has a bright, white-washed feel. If you look closely, my work is child-like at best. I told Michael that he could re-do it if he didn't like it. I'm nothing close to being a handyman, and I completely forgot to use masking tape to keep things looking tidy.
Instead, we have thick white globs, reminiscent of vanilla icing. But that's OK. The important thing is we don't have mold.
