A Tale of Two Brushes By Lisa

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

It was painting time.

What do you get when you combine 3 gallons of paint, six walls and two Type-A fiances?

A near disaster.

In the Stannenfeldt household anyway.

It all started when Matt innocently asked if I wanted to join him on a trip to the man’s Tarjay (Lowes). Since I pride myself on my woMANly ways, I happily obliged.  And I’m not sure how it happened exactly (my cart had a mind of its own!) but on the way to the faucets, we somehow found ourselves in the paint aisle, comparing swatches and finishes (satin or eggshell?) and discussing painting our living room and dining room. (Because for those of the Type-A persuasion, one room just wasn’t enough.)

And the next thing I knew, our cart was piled high with rollers, brushes, tray liners and drop cloths.

And as we paid for the supplies and paint–one gallon of Dusted Bronze and two gallons of Bees Wax– I wondered, were we really going to do this?

Weren’t we breaking one of the cardinal couple rules?

Never move something together!

Never assemble something together!

And never, under any circumstances, paint together!

As we prepped the rooms, I thought to myself, we can do this. And as I taped the crown molding and looked over at Matt as he covered the furniture, I repeated the same mantra in my head.

I won’t be Bossy Betty.

I won’t be Bossy Betty.

I won’t be Bossy Betty.

Well, let’s just say that sometimes, even though you can repeat something over and over in your head, it doesn’t always come true.

The good news is, the rooms look amazing—warm and inviting.

But in hindsight, there are a few things I’d do a wee bit differently should there ever be a next time. (You never know, Hell could freeze over!)

1.  Not agree to accompany the hubs to be to Lowes. (Especially with an ulterior motive in mind!)

2.  I’d let someone else use a roller brush–like maybe the 6’2″ painter by my side. (Even if I didn’t exactly approve of his brush stroke!)

3.  I’d get down off the step ladder long enough to fill my own paint tray. (Even though asking him to do it every time was so much easier!)

4.  I’d remember to get my painter “partner” a cold beverage, like, um, 7 hours sooner!

5.  I wouldn’t ask or expect my fiancee to shop for pillows or rugs after 5 hours of painting! (Even though the couches and floors were begging to look as good as the walls!)

6.  I’d learn to love white walls!

xoxo, Lisa (A.K.A. “Bossy Betty”)