Friday night we decided to paint the kitchen and by "we" I mean me. As in, I painted it all by myself. Kyle will try to fool you into thinking he painted "a whole wall" but you must not believe him. Okay, maybe he did help a little but I still consider the job done by me and me alone. (Although he did take the switchplates off, I guess that counts for something?)
But me? Me is the one who washed the walls, taped off the edges, patched the holes, cleaned the disgusting sides of the stove to paint the wall behind it, and climbed into the nook behind the fridge. Me is who cleaned all the paintbrushes at 2:30 AM and put all the furniture and appliances back in their spaces. Me is who returned the switchplates to their proper places and ached the painful aches of one who was precariously perched on the kitchen sink to paint above the cabinets. So I don't want to hear any of this "I painted a whole wall!" business from the Kyle. I painted that danged kitchen and I painted it good!
And then I woke him up at eight o'clock Saturday morning to shop the yard sales. And he bought for me twenty dollars worth of solid yard-sale goodness:
*One "antique" wood chair.
*Two metal folding chairs.
*One cream-filled day-old donut for me and one of maple for him.
*One sleeping bag (for him because I kinda think that's gross)
*One soon-to-be-painted shelf clock.
*One brushed nickel table lamp.
*Two white lampshades.
And it came to pass that after twenty dollars well-spent I forgave the Kyle for pretending to help me paint the kitchen and I baked unto him a most delicious banana chocolate chip cake which was like unto heaven. And he beheld the beautifully painted kitchen and the cake therein and pronounced it good. The end.