I do not often ask Husband's opinion on this blog, mostly because I seem to be impervious to my relatives' preferences when it comes to this corner of the internet. (See also: Birth Stories, my Boys' definition of TMI.)
But today I had three thought clouds swirling around and couldn't decide which would rain today, so I asked the wise one what he thought. My email to him:
Okay, what should I write a blog about?The wise one has a few things on his mind (Did you know corporate tax deadline is today? It is.) but he responded almost immediately:
1. Reactions of someone married 30+ years to going to a wedding.
2. We are the horrified Germans who let Hitler take over.
3. Painting the back steps.
I’d skip #2, which I assume refers to Donald Trump. I get enough Donald Trump material, probably read the Wall Street Journal too much, and I’d rather read something inspiring or amusing. Of course, I read every blog you write regardless.Is this a smart guy or what? Obviously he did not earn his stripes as the wise one by being stupid. We all get enough of Donald Trump, don't we? And if you are writing this, you know my opinions of Donald Trump so I needn't bore you, my favorite reader(s), with blah blah blah.
So this is the first installation of a series in which I write about painting the back steps. This series will be interminable, and will detail decisions you don't even know had to be made when it comes to painting steps. How am I going to get to my car, for example? This certainly wasn't a consideration taken into account by the guy currently finishing painting the living room, which prompted my reaction of "Well, it certainly couldn't smell any more paint-fumey than it does now" and moved along the painting of the back steps.
Also moving along the painting of the back steps: See today's picture. I shot a dozen or so before I started to paint so that I could remind myself of what it looked like before it entered rehab.
Oh. My. Gosh. This picture is the LEAST disgusting of the befores. In my defense, I had already sanded down the black door frames (thank you, previous house owners who painted every single piece of trim in the house black) and scuffed up the high gloss gray steps. But the walls show the effect of having four boys and a pop can recycling bin that's located at the bottom of the steps going down into the basement. I could not possibly post that before until I had a beautiful after with which to wash out your eyes.
(I'm assuming you missed the detail in the last paragraph in which I admitted that I haven't painted this area since we moved into the house, and that was 29 years ago. I have no shame.)
So to sum up: The back stairs of the House on the Corner are disgusting but Husband would rather have me write about Diet Pepsi-stained walls than vent my spleen concerning Donald Trump.
Hmmmm. He really is a wise one.