Home improvement projects had fallen off dramatically at the Brown household, and I couldn't figure out why. RB and I always enjoyed the Depot in Atlanta and would usually tackle just about anything. But little projects around the house were being left undone. So, yesterday I went to Home Depot and got all those little detailers: a doorstop, a pint of black paint, a quart of white paint, furniture polish, caulk, etc. It was such a pleasure to wander the aisles, but something felt off. It felt like I had gone to the vet and forgotten Sugar. There was no scrabbling, clawing, desperate effort to escape. Ah! The kids were at school. That was it.
Having expended my precious morning off gathering supplies, I then attempted my adventures in home repair after I picked up the girls.
I laid down the newspaper, taped down my edger, readied my brushes, looked cautiously around and determined that Dora had the girls well in hand. Not moments after I unscrewed the lid on the black paint, did two curious ladies appear, bent on having a horsey ride. (The position required to paint the kick plate under the kitchen cabinets is ideal for horsey rides.)
Katie began her best pleading repetition tactic, "Please, can I paint, can I try? I a good painter. I very careful. I very good at painting. I can try. Let me try. Let me do that part. Can I???" (All said while bouncing vigorously on my back.)
Meanwhile, Anna sees her chance, sticks both hands into the paint tray, rubs them together victoriously and "Taaa DAH!" shows them off proudly.
As I am holding her over the sink, scrubbing away and muttering, a calm voice pipes up behind me with the kicker, "Well, you really shouldn't have left it on the floor where she could reach it." Touche, KB, touche.
PS - RB called from Chicago and I proudly related my victory over adversity and the years of 35 linear feet of unpainted kick plate anxiety. He replied, "Huh, it wasn't painted? I hadn't noticed."