- Ran into this exact thing last year—client wanted a “simple” kitchen update in a 1938 bungalow.
- Pulled up the old floor, found not one but two layers of ancient linoleum, and a patch of subfloor that was basically mulch from a slow leak.
- Ended up replacing half the joists.
- Also, those “small” electrical upgrades? Turned into a full panel replacement once we saw the spaghetti behind the walls.
- It’s wild how fast those hidden costs pile up.
- Always tell folks: hope for the best, but plan for the weirdest.
When we did our bathroom, I thought I was being clever by setting aside a “surprise fund.” Turns out, the house was like, “Surprise! You need double that.” Here’s my unofficial guide to surviving the hidden cost ambush:
Step 1: Assume nothing is simple. If your house is older than your favorite grandparent, just expect the unexpected. I once found a newspaper from 1952 under our kitchen tiles. Cool, but also... why?
Step 2: Budget for the weird. I tack on at least 20% to whatever the contractor says. If they say $10k, I mentally prepare for $12k. If you don’t use it, hey, treat yourself to a fancy coffee machine or something.
Step 3: Don’t trust “just a little electrical work.” That phrase is code for “we’re about to find wires that look like spaghetti and possibly a squirrel’s old nest.” I learned this the hard way when our “quick” light fixture swap turned into rewiring half the room.
Step 4: Floors are liars. They look fine until you peel them up and discover a horror show of rot, mystery stains, and sometimes, bonus layers of flooring you never asked for. I swear, our kitchen had more layers than a wedding cake.
Step 5: Document everything. Take photos before, during, and after. Not only does it help if you need to argue with your contractor, but it’s also fun to look back and laugh (or cry) later.
I do think some folks go overboard with the doom-and-gloom, though. Not every project is a money pit, but yeah, if you’re working with anything pre-1970, just brace yourself. And maybe keep a bottle of wine handy for when you inevitably find something weird behind the walls.
“Don’t trust ‘just a little electrical work.’ That phrase is code for ‘we’re about to find wires that look like spaghetti and possibly a squirrel’s old nest.’”
This hits home. I went in thinking, “how bad could it be?” and then found knob-and-tube wiring buried under layers of drywall. One thing I’d add: always check if you need permits or inspections before you start. It’s not just red tape—missing one can mean surprise costs later. Also, keep a running spreadsheet of every expense, even the $12 hardware runs. It adds up faster than you think.
