Last weekend, Phil and Mel (my brother and sister-in-law) were kind enough to deliver a beautiful bedroom set that we bought off them. That set was heavy, so Travis had them drive from the neighbors driveway to our backdoor. I wasn’t home and the neighbor is out of town. I haven’t told the neighbor yet. I hope the tire marks go away, but that’s another story. See Mo, you don’t want to be our neighbor.

Travis decided that if we put this beautiful set in the basement bedroom, we should paint it first. I admit, I didn’t want to paint it. We are getting ready to host Thanksgiving and I didn’t want to add another job. I got up Sunday, and Travis had pulled some leftover paint from the sunroom and was painting the room. It was hard to be mad at his misplaced ambition. I did yell anyway though. I exclaimed, “Hey, you need drop cloths. Rollers have a way of spreading tiny droplets of paint everywhere.” The carpet in that bedroom is new and I wanted to protect it. Trav replied, “It’s fine!” I ran and found the drop cloths and put them around the room. We had already set up the bed, so I worked around that. When I came back with more cloths, I noticed that he had the paint on the edge of the foot rail of the bed. I said, “That is a bad idea!” I moved the paint to some plastic that was randomly in the room and I had added to the drop cloth collection. I left the room to go work on hanging family photos upstairs. After a short while, I head screaming and a stream of swears that would embarrass a trucker. I sprinted downstairs (as much as I can sprint), and there was the paint spilled on the drop cloth after it dropped off the footboard where it wasn’t supposed to be. 

Normally, I would have enjoyed a bit of cosmic karma, but I had paint to clean. And Travis was mad. As I cleaned the paint, he was yelling about how the bed wasn’t supposed to be there and I should be helping him move it out and some other random things I don’t remember. Also, he said to leave the paint, it’s fine. I looked at the pool of paint, just a thin sheet away from my new carpet, and I completely disagreed. At that point, I was mad too because I felt a little under appreciated. Also, I thought he should admit that I was right. Although, I never would have admitted that to him if the roles were reversed. So, I told him I was right. That went over well, as you can imagine. 

So, Travis and I shouldn’t paint together. We had established that while painting the closet, but we keep trying. I did stay downstairs and helped move things around so he could paint more easily. I came to help him when he called (which I thought was a bit excessive). It was difficult to get my stuff done when I had to run to help him all the time, but we all know I shouldn’t stay in the room while he is painting. So, while Travis gets credit for painting the room, I will get credit for preventing paint from getting on the carpet, and grabbing extra supplies, and moving furniture, and finding even more drop cloths (he agreed they were a good idea after all). Basically, I did nothing, but was running all over. 

The room looks nice. My sister Catherine will be the first to sleep there because she is coming for a work visit this weekend. Did I mention how awesome my families are (both Travis’ and mine)? I did ding the wall while we were moving the rest of that excessively heavy furniture in, and Travis tried really hard not to get mad about it. And yes, he spackled it later and repainted that part.

And the march towards Thanksgiving continues. Have a super fantastic humpday everyone!