Moral: Never remodel

So I bet you all thought the Bathroom Remodel was done, right? Perhaps you thought The Husband, Jack and I have been basking in our glorious new bathroom and rearranged pantry, taking bubble baths and sipping champagne. Perhaps you are all idiots. Because of course the Bathroom Remodel is not done. Sure, it’s “done” according to my the-baby-is-coming-please-I-just-want-a-working- shower-and-washing-machine criteria. And sure, both the bathroom and the pantry are fully functional with running water, cabinets, and appliances. But the painting. Oh the painting. If hell is tailored to fit each person, my own personal hell will consist of me, a paintbrush, and acres and acres of walls and porch railings.

Today I put the first coat of paint on one of the pantry walls. Unfortunately, when I opened the container, I found not the warm sunny yellow that I thought I picked out, but a yellow reminiscent of a fluorescent highlighter. I painted the first wall anyway in the vain hope that it would dry darker. No such luck.

I tell you, if my mother and nieces did not read this blog, this post would pretty much be a string of profanities. (I can’t swear in front of my nieces because I have to set a good example, and I can’t swear in front of my mother because I have to pretend I don’t know those words.) (Words like “gosh” and “goldurn it,” Mom! Because those are the only swear words I know!) So now I have to reprime the wall that I painted highlighter yellow and then get a new gallon of paint.

Goldurn it all to heck.