I spent a very unglamorous, but productive weekend painting our basement. Sometimes I feel so pretentious always saying, "Oh, we went to the boat again this weekend..." (I used my best Mrs. Howell voice for that, just so you know). It's never nearly as glamorous as it sounds, but still. Now painting, on the other hand, there is nothing pretentious about scooting around on your butt in your old clothes painting baseboard trim. It's been so strange getting our house ready for someone else to live in. But, that's another story for another day.
We did have a small miracle this weekend. We finally found something that I am better at than Riley. Now, depending on who you ask, there may or may not be several things that I am actually better at, but this is the first one that Riley will readily admit to. I am better at painting! Yay? I feel like this is not quite as an exciting victory as it should be. Because, whoever is better at painting gets to do the majority of it while the other one says things like, "well, you probably don't really want me to do this, anyway..." This leads me to suspect the validity of his confession of inferiority in the first place. But, I guess I'll take what I can get.
|I've been training for over two decades to develop the skill that would one day best my husband. My technique has improved slightly over the years.|
My dad came over to help us on Sunday, which I was really grateful for, since he is the fastest painter and best cutter-iner I know. I suppose I should give him some credit for my "talent." Between the three of us we were able to get a first coat on everything. Guess what my homework is for the rest of the week?