My friend just finished building a gorgeous custom home. She has as her computer screen-saver a picture of two boats: a dinghy named “Original Contract” floating next to a yacht called “Change Order.”
“I think that’s my contractor’s new boat,” she said, pointing to the yacht. We laughed the way people laugh about their taxes. Turns out the picture is making the rounds on the Internet, drawing knowing smirks from builders and gasps of recognition from their clients.
The smirks and gasps are because anyone who’s done a remodel knows how a small job can spiral like the Milky Way. You start out wanting to replace your faucets and wind up remodeling the whole bathroom. That’s how contractors get yachts.
Which brings me to the four most expensive words in remodeling: While we’re at it.
I know. I should have the words “Change Order” painted over the arched entrance to our basement. Before we finished our basement, the entrance was a door opening onto stairs leading to what could only be called a dungeon. The stairway looked like one of those fearsome tunnels in an Indiana Jones movie. At the foot lay ancient remains of trappers, soldiers and Indians buried among prolific spiders, the gold-medal winners of the Spider Web Olympics.
Nothing about this stairway said, “You’re going to love it down here.” So we kept the door closed, except for when the in-laws made their annual visit in June. “And your room is right down these stairs.”
When we began converting the dungeon into livable space, we got so focused on the floor plan, we didn’t think much about the stairs. In our initial budget, which we were sticking to, we’d allowed $500 to carpet the stairs, clear cobwebs and add a decent handrail.
This galactic cost spiral started the day I said, “While we’re at it, let’s tear out the door to the stairs.”
Dan, my husband, shook his head in a way I knew meant: I don’t like where this is going.
“And let’s turn the opening into an arch.”
Dan groaned.
“With the door gone, that first step comes awfully soon,” I noted. “Maybe we should pull the whole staircase out a foot, and create a wider landing, so guests don’t fall down and sue us.”
He coughed as if drywall had lodged in his throat. “Do you know how much that will cost?”
“As long as we’re rethinking the staircase,” I continued.
“As long as you’re rethinking the staircase.”
“Let’s flair the bottom steps, so the stairway looks grander and less like a laundry chute, and instead of carpet, maybe we should install solid-wood stairs.”
“Just get a bid,” Dan said, and put his forehead in his hands.
He knew I’d fallen irretrievably into the while-we’re-at-it trap.
By the time we replaced the door with an arch ($800), extended the landing ($400), had the last four risers custom built to flare ($1,800), and opted for solid-wood stairs ($6,000), the original bid of $500 set us back $9,000, which explains why, though the stairs look great, a year later we still don’t have basement furniture.
After the dust settled, I asked Dan, “Did we go too far with the stairs?”
“You never would have been happy.” He was right, which is pretty much why I married the guy.
I know the stair contractor is happy. He’s probably off on his yacht right now.
Syndicated Colorado columnist Marni Jameson is the author of “The House Always Wins” (Da Capo). You may contact her through .
Renovation blues
In the throes of a remodel, it’s easy to get carried away. Here’s how to avoid while-we’re-at-it fever, or at least what to consider before you blow the budget.
Before you start a remodel, get comprehensive bids from several contractors. Have each one itemize as much as possible, and have them include costs for all upgrades you might want.
Know your finishes. People — and contractors — often plug in budget numbers for items not yet selected. Then the homeowner falls in love with something twice as expensive. Avoid that by picking your finishes and fixtures first, then stop shopping.
Know your price limit. Even if you can afford the upgrade, be careful you don’t overimprove for your neighborhood. You may not get 100 percent of your investment back right away, but a good remodel should earn at least 80 percent back if you do it well, don’t overdo and you control costs.
Make trade-offs. Think of remodeling like dieting: If you have chocolate cake after lunch, have salad for dinner. If you decide you love something that adds a significant expense, cut back elsewhere.
Try this litmus test: Before making a change order, ask three questions. If I don’t do this, will I always regret it? (In the case of my wood stairs, I would have.) Is it too weird? Don’t add something too offbeat — like a tanning room with strobe lights — or you might turn off future buyers. And, will this change order fund my contractor’s yacht?
