Understatements

Are understatements really a lie? If so, I think I lied to myself yesterday.

Dan and I are preparing our house for the market. The buzz words in our house are: declutter, staging and "for the last time, wipe your feet!" Last night I decided to "slap some paint on the wall" of our back room. I think I used those exact words: slap some paint. The term conjures Pollock-like flinging of color. And speed, too. The phrase makes you think it's fast and easy: slap some paint.

In truth, it was neither fast nor easy. There were a few trouble spots on the wall and I just wanted to touch them up. I intended on painting a dot here and there of "Belvedere Cream" Behr paint to make the mudroom look less like mud and more like room. Why didn't anyone stop me? Apparently, while the color of my walls matched what I had in my paint bucket, the SHEEN has somewhat changed. So instead of invisible bandages of color, there were shiny dots all over the room. It was like playing an adult version of "Where's Waldo?" Replace Waldo with subtle glossy dots and PRESTO-- you have an eye-crossing good time.

But I wasn't in the mood for fun. It was already around 8pm and my little venture was slowly snowballing into that sinking realization... "Oh no. I have to paint the WHOLE room." Fortunately, my husband had just tucked the Morganator in bed and helped. We finished at 11pm.

I find it amazing that after thirty some years of understating things, I never learn. If I may, I'd like to lay blame on Home Depot and my father.

I blame Home Depot because they have that terrible ad campaign. You know the jingle: "You can do it. We can help." First of all, I can't do everything they say I can. Secondly, they really can't help. I'll spare you all the stories, but I can tell you that one yahoo convinced us to put asphalt tar on our basement walls for sealing it. The stuff would barely stick to the walls and had a stench that would knock out a grown man. There's a REASON it's used outside. I came to find out that our Home Depot "informer" was in construction and I think that was the ONLY material he knew how to work with. Heaven help him if I had a lighting problem. In any case, I want to change the slogan to: "You can do it, sort of." That would at least be more truthful.

I'd also like to blame my father. He's an excellent salesman and trained in the art of spin. I remember one particular time, when I was in college in Michigan, that he had convinced me to pick up my sister on the way home to Maryland. She attended a school in Ohio. I had no trouble picking up my sister; she's one of my favorite people on earth. But the way my father proposed this drive was rather odd: "Hey Emily, Can you swing by Ohio and pick up your sister on the way home?" Swing by? I laughed. "Dad, I'd be happy to, but Noel is 4 hours out of my way. There's no 'swinging' going on there."

It's about time for me to wrap up this post. Dan and I have got to whip a tile floor down tomorrow.