"Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair
and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket."
Author: Alan Beck

Friday, January 13, 2012

Putting the cracks back.

Have you ever had the type of day where your first thought in the morning was,

Today....I shall repaint a wall!?

Who am I kidding?  For me, EVERY day begins with my first groggy thought having something to do with paint.  Nothing makes me happier. 

Paint = happiness.

However, since Santa forgot to load his sleigh with a Home Depot gift card for me (or rubber farming boots, or a goat), my paint palate and choices are slim.  With nothing much to redo, I resorted to touch up.

Touch up = slight happiness.  Not the real deal, but it suffices in a pinch.

Hubby was kind enough to venture into what the boys and I call 'the spider room' (commonly known as the furnace room) to gather the colors I planned on renewing.

Room by room, I renewed.  I even let the boys help, until one sat in paint while the others dripped a paint trail all over the carpet.  Note to self: - combining craft time with a home improvement project never works as planned.

I saved the best, the staircase, for last.  The place where all fingerprints land, where walls are never spared from flying toys, hot wheels, shoes, and sometimes....flying children.  This was a job that not only required touch-up paint, but spackle, too. 

Armed with my new favorite tool, hot pink spackle that turns white when it's dry and ready to paint, I filled each little crevice and crack. I waited (impatiently) for the pink to fade to white, and started to paint.  Fast forward two hours later, and I was left with a staircase that sparkled and gleamed.

Now fast forward three hours later....

Do you see what I see?  The pictures don't do the artwork justice.  Them are dark, deep lines. 

Finding the culprit to this type of criminal activity isn't as hard as it used to be.  I went straight to the source.

Wes, of course.

Wes quickly explained, as only Wes could, that I had taken away all of his 'cwacks'.

"I like da cwacks, mama.  So I dwew dem back on."

To touch up or not to touch up.  That is the question.