Before I begin this little blog tale, let me begin by saying that it is a rare day when I get hit on by someone. Maybe it's because I am constantly in a state of untamed hair, stained clothes, and small people hanging from me; or, it may have more to do with the fact that an aged, kerflufled version of Annie isn't the most appealing look to men.
When's the last time you heard a man say, "Whoa, check out the freckles on that one!..."
And I can't remember the last time anyone made me blush in that regard, unless you count that guy at Ott's who told me I was beautiful during last week's Girls Night Out. His eyes were closed as he barely balanced a glass of whiskey in his palm, and only the wall deterred him from falling to the floor. And I stilled skipped off to tell my friends all about it.
Like I said, it doesn't happen often. Which is why the next little story still has me smiling and my husband fuming:
My husband is a virtuoso painter. Sincerely.
He uses no tape, few expletives, and rarely does anyone believe that someone other than a professional painted our rooms. So, excluding some of the really high ceilinged (yes, it's a word) rooms, he has slowly painted each room in our house.
Good as he is, he is not a paint snob. If it goes on clean and its color appeals to me, then that is just fine. For that reason, our last few rooms have been painted with colors care of a local Sherwin Williams that just opened nearby. They keep all the colors and coating in the computer for a ready reference and the guys that work there are very helpful and considerate. (Remember THIS story??).
So, I recently decided to paint my laundry room in hopes that a cheery color may compel me to spend more time there. I positioned the kiddies with books at a table, and began the process of selecting the perfect color: Lounge Green.
Once again, the guys were helpful, even offering to carry the paint out to my car since my arms were pretty full with a large, well fed toddler. I left feeling enthused by a mission successfully completed and waited to share the next project with my man.
When my man came home, he reminded me that we also need more paint to finish the tray ceiling in our bedroom. No matter, he would swing by the store the next day to pick it up.
I'm 32, a dad, and I am not a douchebag...
6 years ago