Tomorrow night, I'm taking out the trim.

That's what he said.  That's what I thought he would be doing.   But then this happened.

 That doesn't look like trim to me.  That's a toilet.  In my foyer.  Yeah, sure, c'mon over, sit on the potty and take your shoes off.  G'head, make yourself at home!

We've been together 13 years, almost 14.  You'd think I would have known that this is what "taking out the trim" would be.  The beginning of the bathroom remodel I thought we were starting next week.  I'm not upset, mostly because there isn't much point in being upset.  He can't put the toilet back in until he puts in flooring, so...yeah.  When I was in high school my parents fixed up the bathroom.  The toilet sat in front of the big picture window for weeks.  Weeks, not days, or "a" week, WEEKS.  I don't remember why, and I don't think that matters.  What matters is that the toilet sat in front of the picture window for WEEKS.  Did I mention that I was in high school?  Yes, it's possible that I'm remembering it wrong, but that event has scarred me for life.  A toilet in the picture window for WEEKS, people.  WEEKS.  And now I have one in my foyer.