We've had all of this snow and days at home with no school. It hasn't been conducive to me blogging it seems. Here's a story from a couple of weeks ago.
The weekend before the snow hit we had a rare day at home. Kent loves those! He gets that gleam in his eye that says "let's throw out some junk (or as I see it perfectly good stuff) and organize!" You don't know my husband if you don't instantly realize this just makes him giddy. Yes, a 42 year old man can get giddy when he gets to organize. I'm annoyed everytime I turn on the tv to some new punks "Organize Me" show. Kent's ticket to fame was obviously in that area and it's totally been exploited by the likes of Oprah types.
Oh, well, on to the Saturday of humoring Kent. He informed me that it was really "not fair" for the kids to try to play in all of those toys. (imagine weird expression on my face as I listen) Yeah, yeah I get it the playroom is a bit over stimulating, but really it has some BIG furniture in there that has no other place to go and one day we will use that room in a different capacity. So my point being the problem isn't REALLY the toys, right?
He didn't go for it and my anxiety at what was going to happen next was really spiking now.
Background information: this is the man who donated the mini-blind that went on the garage window. It was taken down by the painters. Okay, another blog topic, but yes the garage was professionally and decoratively painted and just in case you wonder that is NOT one of my designated rooms. Anyway, the blind was in the floor in front of the window and for some reason didn't get put back up. Next thing I know I'm mentioning to him for safety reasons that window needs the blind back up......"oh, I think I know.....".
So! Now you know why I get nervous when we start "organizing" etc.. I did inherit the "we might need that one day gene". I am not a horder, but the thought of repurchasing something I had at one time that has now been donated just annoys me. There is no time frame and I don't buy the "if you haven't used it since 1980" line either. Think "retro" and "vintage" people. Even clothes folks, one good weekend of food poisoning and you know you can get those old jeans back on.
The playroom is tackled and I'm quite confident that vital toys parts are probably missing now. I will know for certain in 20 years when I reorganize and try to complete sets of toys. I'll let you know how it turns out. Playroom is "straighter" now and two male people in my house are happier. I resign myself that happy husband and son trumps missing Little People animals. Sigh.
Kent had moved on to the great outdoors to power wash "stuff". Seriously, the motor on that thing had to be getting close to overheating. I was beginning to wonder if he was removing mortar from between the bricks on the house now. What could he possibly be washing still?
Kent had been mentioning to the children for a couple of weeks that he was going to let them repaint the step stool in the half bathroom. OK, I let Kole paint on the playroom wall (and then I painted a frame around it). Yes, it is something only a parent can appreciate and I'll probably cut out the sheet rock out if we ever move. Still I was a bit "concerned" at them painting this stool that sits in the guest bathroom. ??? Landrie can't drink out of a cup without spilling it, so how in the world was this going to work, much less look?
I suggested a base coat on the stool and Kent did a marvelous job painting it white. Lovely!! Okay, so we resolved to let the kids put their hands in paint and put cute hand prints on the stool. Lovely again! Bathroom will not look like splatter paint. (Hand prints do look a bit like a cross between a large great dane and a child, but it homemade afterall). Lastly, I was in charge of painting their names on the stool. No biggie. I decided at the last minute to put on my painting clothes, just in case. Smartest move of the day I might add. I painted little Landrie's name in pink to match her print. Four more letters for Kole and I'm done. Grabbed the green paint and next thing you know I look like I've been in a food fight with pureed asparagus. How? What? "Oh, I can't even move. It's everywhere!"
I'm standing in a puddle and realize my choice of painting shoes happens to be my good Sketchers.
I am a bit miffed, but I'm silenced by the shock of green goop that has soaked completely through my pants and is now clogging the pores in my skin. I decide to slosh around the house following the sound of the power washer. He looks at me and all I say is "you might want to screw the lid on the paint next time". (This was nearly two weeks ago and we are still happily married)
I'm not sure, but I think deep down that gleam got brighter in his eye at the thought of what he was going to get to power wash next. I carried my shoes to the kitchen sink and thoroughly washed them as best I could. I was satisfied that they would now have some stylish green paint, but I could live with that.. I threw my clothes back out there a few minutes later and ask him to wash them just so I could throw them in the washer later. I sat my shoes in the garage to dry, did I say to dry?
My paint clothes are now vintage with holes. If power washing is good enough for the drive-way, then surely.....Sketchers. They are broken in now and still have some pureed asparagus green to remind me of the day.
The moral of that story: Landrie isn't the only one that provides "entertainment" in the Hendrix home.
