Well, the time has come to reveal the end result of my latest painting project.
Last year, I had decided to paint my bedroom and the hallway a rich, dark green. That works out if you are going to live there forever, but since we are going to have to sell our house, the walls have to be a neutral color in order to sell it.
So. Thus began the torture.
For an entire week, I painted. By the end of the week, I still had paint in my hair. Every day, I had to scrub the paint off my hands, arms, and even my feet. I dreamed about painting. I breathed it till I was high as the clouds, and my arms felt like they were going to fall off when everything was finally done.
I was exhausted......but there was still more left to do.
If you've read my post from last year's painting experience, you know that we have a little imp. As much planning as I could do, I tend to get just a little bit distracted while painting.
I was tired and trying to get the boys' bedroom done. The sun was going down and dinner had not yet been put on the table. Finally, though, I finished the last bit of wall and breathed a paint-filled sigh of relief.
I was done.
I would have done a jig right there, but I didn't have the strength and I didn't want to ruin my paint job by spilling over the can of paint.
I went downstairs to start dinner and feed the baby. Happy comes into the living room to greet me after my self-inflicted time apart from him and I noticed something that made my heart drop down to my stomach.
He had a white substance on various parts of his body and in his hair.
After a week of seeing that white substance on the wall and also on various parts of my own body, I knew exactly what it was.
"Boys! Get up and look around the house for the paint job that Happy just did," I wearily sigh. I noticed the bathroom door was open. I was dumbfounded because I swore to myself that I thought I had locked it since all of the painting supplies were in there. I knew that if it wasn't locked Happy would be in there in seconds having the time of his life.
Well, it was unlocked so I went to investigate. I looked around the door and there on the wall was a Happy-sized coat of primer on the bathroom wall.
I took a gasping gulp of air and just stood there with my hand to my mouth. Bashful was standing in the doorway and when he saw my reaction, he slowly began to back up. I plopped the baby in his arms and said, "Take care of Sneezy."
Marching back down the stairs, Happy noticed his mommy's stormy expression and began backing away with a scared look on his face. I got the bucket and soap and began scrubbing the wall. Eventually, the primer came out and there was no permanent damage to the wall, but I think there may be some damage to my brain and I am going to have to take some time off from logical reasoning for a while.
Last year, I had decided to paint my bedroom and the hallway a rich, dark green. That works out if you are going to live there forever, but since we are going to have to sell our house, the walls have to be a neutral color in order to sell it.
So. Thus began the torture.
For an entire week, I painted. By the end of the week, I still had paint in my hair. Every day, I had to scrub the paint off my hands, arms, and even my feet. I dreamed about painting. I breathed it till I was high as the clouds, and my arms felt like they were going to fall off when everything was finally done.
I was exhausted......but there was still more left to do.
If you've read my post from last year's painting experience, you know that we have a little imp. As much planning as I could do, I tend to get just a little bit distracted while painting.
I was tired and trying to get the boys' bedroom done. The sun was going down and dinner had not yet been put on the table. Finally, though, I finished the last bit of wall and breathed a paint-filled sigh of relief.
I was done.
I would have done a jig right there, but I didn't have the strength and I didn't want to ruin my paint job by spilling over the can of paint.
I went downstairs to start dinner and feed the baby. Happy comes into the living room to greet me after my self-inflicted time apart from him and I noticed something that made my heart drop down to my stomach.
He had a white substance on various parts of his body and in his hair.
After a week of seeing that white substance on the wall and also on various parts of my own body, I knew exactly what it was.
"Boys! Get up and look around the house for the paint job that Happy just did," I wearily sigh. I noticed the bathroom door was open. I was dumbfounded because I swore to myself that I thought I had locked it since all of the painting supplies were in there. I knew that if it wasn't locked Happy would be in there in seconds having the time of his life.
Well, it was unlocked so I went to investigate. I looked around the door and there on the wall was a Happy-sized coat of primer on the bathroom wall.
I took a gasping gulp of air and just stood there with my hand to my mouth. Bashful was standing in the doorway and when he saw my reaction, he slowly began to back up. I plopped the baby in his arms and said, "Take care of Sneezy."
Marching back down the stairs, Happy noticed his mommy's stormy expression and began backing away with a scared look on his face. I got the bucket and soap and began scrubbing the wall. Eventually, the primer came out and there was no permanent damage to the wall, but I think there may be some damage to my brain and I am going to have to take some time off from logical reasoning for a while.
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