Color Me Blue

My eyes roll to the back of my head when I read Facebook posts about internal family squabbles so I'm not proud of my own Facebook post from Saturday morning.

Husband and I are discussing paint colors. Shoot me now.

I know! Airing dirty laundry, TMI, personal business should stay personal--normally I agree. Does it help to explain that the biggest fight Husband and I have had in 31 years of married mostly-bliss was over the color of the living room?

We are compatible in so, so many ways but when it comes to paints, we are products of our upbringing. He is a preacher's kid who grew up in parsonages where walls came in two colors--white and eggshell. I'm the daughter of an mother who gathered leaves from oak trees in the back yard to stencil them onto the corner of the living room, which she had just painted terracotta red. He's the son of parents who collaborated and discussed every decision, from menu to sermon topic. I'm the daughter of a man who could look around and say "Have you done something different in here?"--a year after something different was done.

My idea of decorating is "Hey, honey! Look at this great color I've picked for the living room! It's celadon, and it's gorgeous!" and he thinks celadon is both too dark and too bright and a decision that should not have been made in a vacuum. We're both right, is what I'm saying, but aaaaaaarghhhhh.

So even though we're both right, my blood pressure started to rise when I even thought about picking out colors for Boy#2's formerly bear-papered room. It's being transformed into Husband's home office so he will be the one spending the most time here, even though it also will have a futon for Boys on holiday visits.

Saturday morning I pulled out the chips I'd pinned to my Pinterest page and started doing my best optometrist impression.

"Do you like this one or this one better? A or B? Do you really like B better or is it just that it's exactly the combination we have in the sun room? Okay, B or C? C or D? B or D?"

Of the nine swatches I had chosen, he was able to rule out five. And he added one, which was yellow and on which I used my peremptory challenge because I'm planning to re-do the kitchen in that shade.

Then we headed to Lowe's, picked out an area rug we liked, and realized that one of the finalists was perfect with that rug. Done.

We survived to paint another day, but in my heart of hearts I agreed with the friend who replied to the Saturday morning post.

"If Husband is part of that discussion," Rebecca wrote, "you're going about it all wrong." 

Is it too late to put the bears and tractors back?