Just One of Those...

Quiet evenings.

Today, I was home alone. Mom and the younger kids were away helping a friend/babysitting, and the older boys were working with Dad. So, I had the house to myself.

What did I do? I battled.

I donned the proper attire, took up my weapon, and attacked. I fought so ferociously that I was splattered head to toe...

...with paint.

Yes. Some people just paint normally. I attack. I do battle.

I think it's because I don't really enjoy painting to begin with - not that I hate it, it's just not something I consider "Easy Easy Fun Time." (Rebekah, you're so cute.) So I work very fast, and I think I get a perma-frown from concentrating so hard on getting the paint on the walls, instead of on me.

Is hyperbolous a word? Because this is what that would be if it were. Slightly.

I had to mud the walls first, because they are very holey. As in full of holes and dents and canyons. So, when the mud was dry, I primed and then painted.

And it looks better. Way better than it has ever looked before. Y'all should see it. :)

As I was painting today, I thought to myself, "I wonder if there are any poems about painting walls."

Hehhehheh. Ask and ye shall receive.

How to Paint A Wall

While I went off to work one day,
She decided to paint the wall.
And when I came back home that night,
She was curled into a ball.

Her eyes were closed, she was breathing hard,
Her hair was very wet.
From her head to the tips of her pretty toes,
She was covered all in sweat.

She was wrapped in a jacket made of down,
With a fur coat on top of that.
The wall was glowing with new, fresh paint;
On the floor, the paint can sat.

"Sweetheart!" I cried, with a worried look,
"Are you all right, my dear?"
She lazily opened her lovely eyes,
And smiled from ear to ear.

"I knew I could do it," she said with a grin;
"I followed the paint can notes.
It clearly said 'For best results,
Be sure to put on two coats.'"

By Joanna Fuchs