Because we tend to be a laugh a minute and are always busy as bees, living the beautiful life, we decided to go completely over the top this weekend and paint the garage. That hasn't been painted in a good thirty years. While it's raining cats and dogs outside.

We're not only really fun people, we also are a little OCD so we put this weekend's plans on the calendar several weeks ago, figuring first we'd paint the garage walls, next weekend would be spent painting the floor and throwing those cool chips onto the wet paint to jazz it up a bit, then the next weekend will be spent power washing the picket fence. See? Our fun plans rate right up there with flying in personal jets to exotic places for a weekend jaunt, or maybe running over to the wine country for a little tipsy tour, or whatever else fancy-schmancy people do with their time.

I'm actually a bit tickled to paint the garage because I'm all about marking things off The List, and for all the painting I've done, I've never painted a garage. You have to paint just about everything else in the house before you ever get around to freshening up the area that only the cars live in, or the mud-crusted gardening tools and flammable materials and insecticides that might kill the pets if they get into them. Since we have indeed painted almost every square inch of the inside of this place, we've decided the garage needs a face lift so that the house can be perfect top to bottom when we finally list it next spring.

DH was completely good with this plan, so tonight we headed to the local Lowes, where we'd already pre-priced cans of Dry-Lok, and those kits for painting your garage with stuff that won't lift off when you drive over it. For a mere $300 you can have a garage that looks brand spankin' new, top to bottom. We went up and down the aisles of Lowes, gathering all we needed, paid and drove home. As we were unloading the cans, out of the blue, DH said to me, "I hate painting."

What? I haven't asked him to paint anything since we painted the living room for the third time, five years ago. He helped and didn't complain so I thought it wasn't that awful. Obviously he's dreading our fun-packed weekend after all. So I said to him, "well, if you really don't want to paint, how about if I paint and you replace ceiling tiles in the rec room, and just yell out cheers of 'atta girl' once in awhile, where I can hear them? He said, "that could probably be arranged." Then, after another moment he asked, "how would you feel about me watching college football from above you, in the family room, and cheering from there?"

Sometimes you can speak vast amounts without saying a word.

Labels: Family Affair