Last night, we finished painting the laundry room cabinets. As I was inspecting the cabinets on Sunday, making sure brush strokes were minimal, and evaluating the quality of finish from the foam roller, I told Elizabeth “I think one coat of paint will be fine.” This, of course, meant “I hope you’re ok with one coat of paint, because that’s all you’re going to get.” You see, I hate painting. Painting is like watching ballet. It’s tedious, your eyes start going out of focus, it takes far longer than it really should, music doesn’t make it better, your mind wanders, and all you really get out of it is to see something “pretty”, and depending on the quality of the job the image will continually haunt you.
As you may have realized, I still had another coat to go. Elizabeth caught my sub-text and raised me: "Another coat will add protection, and help cover the old paint better." Well done. Thankfully, only the face needed another coat, including the crown molding that had been painted bronze for some reason. Now I just need to hang the doors.
No comments:
Post a Comment