The wife tells me, I want this mounted, here, on that wall … in the bathroom.
Do it now.
After using exceptional skills to figure out where the pipes should be, a very long time before any Bosch Truuvo’s, the operation starts. Wife is overseeing it with a female’s attention to detail.
I drill and drill, drill not moving, blerrie clinkers in the brick again. Push harder, next moment, me barefoot in the bath with an electric drill howling, I’m being hosed by high-pressure ice cold water.
The drill is thrown that way, I go straight up clear over the rim of the bath like a pro.
An entire weekend without water with 2 babies in the house, the pipe was copper and we needed new tiles too.
Needless to say, to date, I have not been instructed to drill anything into any bathroom wall. Jip, not once.
Same house, newly built extension, I do the work to put in the lightswitches. I chisel a nice neat furrow in the wall for the wires all over the house after we carefully deliberate (fought the shite out of each other) where they should ideally go, and push the wires in, ready for sparkie to check the next day before we close up.
He comes around, sees my master craftmanship, and calmly says: Nope, wires shall be in an electrical conduit, and walks off.