The Wallpaper Debacle

I've discovered the true nature of Hell, and it is removing bathroom wallpaper.

Do you remember putting the stuff up? Hoping and praying that the glue would hold, and worrying that the merest dainty sneeze might cause the whole job to come sliding down like some sadistic (and very large) banana peel?

Well now the stuff is petrified.

Really, the only sure way of bringing old wallpaper down is to attempt to paint over it. No one ever actually does this, as we've been brainwashed by the media, our mothers, and Martha Stewart that not only is it extremely gauche, but it also causes flesh-eating disease.

Let's get down to business. As long as I'm here, I may as well attempt to educate you poor saps about to embark on similar folly.

Do you have the proper tools? Proper tools are paramount, because even though they won't make the job one whit easier, whenever you relay your war stories afterward everyone will ask, "Did you use the proper tools?" You will get NO sympathy unless you have them.

First there's the "scoring tool" which, despite the overt scoring inference, bears no resemblance to any ball or game or recreational activity whatsoever. The purpose of this device is to fatally dent (but not perforate) the wallpaper, effectively ruining it and thus committing you to the removal process. Men love this tool. It has sharp pokey things, thus qualifying it as a "weapon." Plus, wives squeal when chased with it. Hint: this is cute ONCE.

Then there's the glue solvent, which is primarily for stepping in.

The instructions say to "thoroughly wet walls with solvent, taking care to drape furniture and flooring." I applaud their optimism that a drape would stand a chance. I'm talking "The Perfect Storm" here.

The instructions show only a slim arm wearing a rubber glove - but what they don't show is the raincoat, goggles, snorkel, and hip boots necessary to keep this stuff off of you. And I'm not talking fashion rain gear - I'm talking no nonsense monsoon-grade fisherman attire. A good test is to suit up and ride through a carwash in the back of a pickup truck. Scuba gear also works.

Note that this caustic solvent doesn't actually do anything to the wallpaper glue, but when you step in it, it will melt your shoes.

The final tool is a "scraper" which suspiciously resembles an all-purpose putty knife, but costs twice as much. This, according to instructions, is to help pry the paper from the wall without damaging the surface beneath. Much as a crowbar will allow you to retrieve your keys without damaging the finish on your car door.

Now, while ripping wallpaper from the walls does have a momentary cathartic effect, please be prepared for the inevitable coronary impact of wrecking your house. Sure, this piece seems to be cooperating, but then you hit a good spot, and not only do you find yourself with a fistful of "daisies on blue," but also a goodly section of drywall, a 2x4, and 6 or 7 bricks.

No matter. A window is what you had in mind anyhow. Good for resale.

Once you get ALL of the paper off, and remove your head from that spot behind the toilet that looked a lot wider than it actually was, take a moment to congratulate yourself. Because now your work has just begun.

Next, you must scrape (I believe the term is: "the hell") out of the residual paste and leftover paint patches. And your knuckles - though I'm not sure how this works, since theoretically, knuckles are on the opposite side of your hand.

There's some spackling in there, too, which conveniently makes for a nice "second skin" on those abrasions.

Finally, your hard-earned result: You are now ready to PAINT a room with more trim than Delta Burke's wedding dress.

So, in summary: Do yourself a favor. Schedule a nice relaxing root canal, and let the pros handle the bathroom. Okay, it might qualify as "sloth," but the guy with the horns can deal with you later.