A War Story
I Am the Queen of Spackle

Mrs. Bainter the Painter*

We spent a good part of the weekend painting the front hallway a lovely shade of good old dependable white. When I told Mom that I couldn't take her to lunch because we were painting, she said, "But you didn't consult me!"

Um, no; I guess I didn't.

So I said, "I had to consult you?"

And she said, "Yes, about colors!"

And I said, "Eggshell white, Mom. It's the front hallway!"

And she said, "Oh, that will never do. Too blah."

And I said, "Look, we're painting so we can sell the place easier. Eggshell white is perfect!"

And she said, "Yes, I suppose so. All right, see you at lunch tomorrow."

But yeah, we painted. One coat of Kilz, two coats of eggshell white -- from and including the front door and up the steps to the landing. I'm amazed at how much brighter the hallway is, and at how dingy the living room is. I'm relentlessly ignoring that, though.  I really don't want to paint the living room. I really, really don't. But I might -- and I do mean might -- pick up a nice warm beige or tan for the trim.

Or not.

We've actually got a little more to do in the hallway, but not much -- maybe an hour's worth, if that, including the trim.

Just enough to add a few more eggshell white highlights to my hair. Nothing like a little latex flat to give a girl that little extra boost of sex appeal.

*Two pats on the head to the first person who can tell me which children's TV program featured a character named Mr. Bainter the Painter.