Husband is now really sick. Kids are on the mend. Rhinos are still running in my nose, but I am functional. Tom came over to grout. Andy couldn't do it (putting your head down to floor level when you have a fever and a headache and a stuffed nose is not recommended). So I helped grout. Mostly I hauled buckets of water and washed sponges, but I got to smear the brown stuff around too. I didn't realise that's how it's done. You plop this pumpkin pie/clay consistency stuff onto the tiles and smear it diagonally, pushing it down in to fill the gaps. Honest it is like spreading odourless shit all over your floor, which is actually kind of fun. You try to keep smearing and pushing it into the cracks so as to leave a minimum on top of the tiles and maximize the crack-filling. When you're done you wipe and wipe and wipe to take the residue off the tiles. Now the floor looks good. Tom said I shouldn't have told him what I thought it looked like because he never thought of that. Oh well, he doesn't have kids. Grouting is honestly every 2 year-old's potty dream.
Question: Does enjoying grouting have Freudian implications?
mompoet - expulsive, yeah!