Painted into a Corner

Have you ever decided to do something really nice for your boyfriend while he is out of town for two days, even though that something-really-nice you decide to do should be a two-person project and take a week? You know, like, paint a spare bedroom?

Have you ever been on your hands and knees in your boyfriend’s hardwood-floored dining room trying to clean up the gallon of aptly named Surprise Orange paint from the floor thinking, “You know, Lucy Ricardo got a bad rap!”

So there I was carrying three gallons of paint into the house – two in one hand, one in the other – as well as other painting accoutrement, because I couldn’t possibly take 2 or 3 trips to the truck. I put the two gallons onto the kitchen table and one gallon, apparently, didn’t quite make it.

A gallon of paint is a lot. I mean, it doesn’t seem like a lot. Andrew goes through a gallon of milk in a week just by the amount of yoghurt he makes. One gallon of gas gets me to work and back only once (if you count the fumes). But, one gallon of paint… on a hardwood floor… Michael Phelps could have trained in the dining room.

My thoughts in order and quick succession were: This did not happen. Andrew is going to be upset. No he isn’t. Andrew is going to break up with me. HAHAHAHAHAHA. I can pin this on the cats.

It took me two and a half hours to clean the paint off the floor. It took a little longer for me to figure out that Widget had attempted to help me clean up and that she went from a grey tabby to orange. I also lost a pair of my favorite boots to the affair.

But, the room is painted and now is only waiting on moulding… I could probably do that by myself and surprise Andrew. I can’t imagine anything would go wrong with that plan!

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