I mean, they are a joke. Just not a joke on you.
This was the boys' bathroom (which doubles as our guest bathroom) back in January, when we finally decided to do a much needed "design refresh": new paint, new floors, and a new pedestal sink.
I used to wonder why our boys were so reluctant to practice basic bathroom hygiene, and I now realize it's because they were too busy wanting to kill themselves. In the most depressing bathroom ever.
So I called in my cousin, who is a builder/plumber/electrician/tile/younameit guy, who as you'll see in just a second, does really, really good work (and tolerates my incessant controlinatrix text messages ARE YOU ON YOUR WAY? HOW ABOUT NOW?).
Then I sidled up to our dear friend Michael, who's an interior designer with taste far superior to mine, and I told him what I was thinking about tile and paint colors. And while he was peeing on himself laughing about my complete and utter lack of imagination thinking it over, just for kicks, he did a little rendering of what could be, if we just moved this wall here, and knocked out that closet there, and put in a vanity like this, and a countertop like this or this ... and then I pretty much stuffed him in my pocket and refused to let him climb out until every last drawer pull was purchased. You get back in there, Mister, and whisper to me about the towel racks.
I am excellent at making decisions, when someone gives me five beautiful options to choose from.
But I could never have brained this whole thing up from scratch: