I'm here to say, you can get paint in some pretty strange places. I found that out this weekend after I surfaced from painting my kitchen cabinets.
The Kiddo helped -- and was introduced to her first use of power tools. Since The Husband is a little different and does not get a twinkle in his eye when presented with a new Black & Decker thingamabob, I'm hoping to create an addiction in The Kiddo wherein she wants the same sort of gadgets that I find will make my life easier but am too stingy to buy. She shows all inclinations of being a DIYer.
My muse, on the other hand, is more like me. She came teetering on stilettos through the kitchen and dining room, hands on her hips, and schreeched, "This will never do."
"What?" I asked, concentrating on leaving as few brush strokes on a front panel of a door as possible.
"This! This!"
I looked up to see what 'this' was. My muse was throwing her hands every which way, encompassing the entire mess. " I'm totally not accustomed to such chaos. If you insist on continuing to leave all these paint cans and sand paper and smelly paint fumes, I'll just leave."
"Uh-huh," I said. Now I was trying to move a door out of the way, cursing the thunderboomers that prevented me from using our garage. "It's not like you're any great help most of the time any way. By the way, your feather boa is trailing in the paint tray."
"I never!" She fussed a bit over the ruined feather boa. "That's it! I'm out of here, and then you'll be sorry."
"Don't forget the bon bons up on the top shelf."
The muse just stood there. "You will be sorry, won't you?" she asked in a very small voice.
I'd started in on another door. "I just want you to be happy," I told her.
"Happy? But I'm never happy."
"Could be an interesting change," I said. I laid another wide streak of paint on the door.
"That looks ... fun. Can I try it?"
"Sure. Paint brush over there."
A minute or so later, the muse was sighing pleasurably. "Why, this is fun!"
I chuckled. "Oh, yeah. The first 15 or so are. I'd ditch the stilettos, if I were you."
9 comments:
I'm reminded of Tom Sawyer who convinced the neighbourhood kids to paint the fence. Your muse needed a little extra time. Entertaining post.
I'm glad The Kiddo likes power tools. I just bought my first one this year and I have screwed and drilled anything and everything I possibly could. There's something about the sound they make, like a 5-speed camaro revving it's engine.
Now, when are you coming to my house to paint? My muse doesn't care what kind of mess you make, she's used to living in chaos.
LOL! Hey, I have a great idea -- when you bring me the fried chicken you can stay and help me paint my kitchen cabinets! We can send out muses out to bond over manicures while we work. ;)
I feel fortunate my husband loooooves power tools. Of course, he doesn't ever remember to put them away, and when he DOES put them away, he has no idea where they are. Still, it's a good way to trick him into doing tasks I don't want to tackle.
Tawna
I love that you are training The Kiddo up in power tools!
I used to do all that handy stuff, now I'm doing good to get the laundry done. *sheesh*
Paul, it was exactly like that! Feature that -- I'm Tom Sawyer!
Anne, isn't it liberating to finally get the thing that makes something not only feasible, but DOABLE?
Linda G, those muses better be willing to SACRIFICE their manicures for your kitchen -- ain't no free-loadin' around this here place! ;-)
Tawna, same thing here as far as actually FINDING power tools -- it's a scavenger hunt just to find a screwdriver. When The Husband saw the power screw driver, he said, "Where'd you get that? Is that The Sister's?"
I said, "No, it's yours. She gave it to you for your birthday."
"Oh. Where WAS it?"
Susan, I think all women should know they are WORTH power tools. I've decided that the next time I want a power tool, I'll just go buy it for myself, LOL!
Oh, you have a drama queen for a child also? But do get her into tools. Both my drama queens can change their own tires, cook, sew, and if necessary, build things. They both have their own toolboxes. Gifts from their Dad when they got out of college. Both their fiances are helpless, however. This must be the way it works!
Thanks for a great readd
This waas lovely to read
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