You Should See Me at the Ice Cream Counter

I've been contemplating a creative response to that meme that's been floating around my corner of the internet world. And then I remembered this post I wrote and shelved before Christmas. I think it might actually reveal a little more about who I am than answering those forty-two random questions.

MY WALLS ARE PAINTED!

Yes, after 11 sample shades of yellow (from light lemon to dark mustard), a rash conclusion resulting in some trim and half a wall before a change of heart, and several painfully vacillating weeks living like this...

...I finally made a decision. Here's a play-by-play of the final moments.

As Jim was heading out the door to buy the paint, I handed him two paint swatch cards.

Jim, perplexed and a tad bothered: Why are you giving me two? Which one do you want?

Me, feeling pretty proud that I had actually narrowed it down to two: Call me when you get there.

I walked up and down the stairs and looked at the patches from every possible angle. I started to sweat and feel a bit nauseous. I frantically phoned my sister.

K: Hello?

Me: Jim is on his way to buy the paint. Which one should I choose?

K: I'd go with the first one.

Me: Which one is the first one?

K: I was hoping you'd know.

Lots of nervous giggles.

Me: It's between Morning Sun, the softer, butter yellow, and Slice, the more vibrant, golden yellow. I can't decide.

K: I really like the patchwork look of several different shades all together on each wall.

Click, click.

Me: Oh my gosh. That's him on the other line.

K: Go with the Morning Sun. You won't regret it. You might regret too much zing.

Me: Okay, bye.

Click.

Me: Hello?

Jim: Well?

Me: I'm not sure.

Jim: Diane, I'm next in line.

Me: I just don't know.

Jim: Diane, they're exactly the same color.

Me: They're completely different on the wall.

Jim: I'm at the counter. Go with the Slice. (randomly chosen, I'm sure)

Me: That's what I was leaning tow...

Click. (before I could say another word)

I immediately called my sister again.

K: Well?

Me: I went with the Slice.

K: You can never have too much zing in your life. And I'm so glad you didn't go with the one I suggested. Now, what you need to do is go shopping while Jim is painting. Do not look at it until it is completely done.

Me, already second-guessing my choice: I feel sick.


Well, I did stick around to watch Jim paint. And I did wonder about my decision. And I did make a few weak jokes about changing my mind.

To which Jim clearly warned me: If you decide to find a new yellow, you'll have to find a new husband...or at least a new painter.

That zipped my lips up fast. I let it go and let him paint.

My walls are now the color of Slice. They're bright and bold and cheerful and full of zing. Everything that I am not.

And I love them.

Our entry, living room, stairway, and upstairs hall are a juicy Slice of golden yellow, our family room is a warm Chestnut, and our dining room is a light Sheepskin above the chair rail and a rich Cranberry Bog below. It's beginning to feel like my home.

God bless my saintly painter. I'm doing my best to send him to Heaven.

(I think I'll wait a while to talk to him about the bedrooms and bathrooms. And the fact that the carpeting is now looking kind of shabby..)