Over the past few weeks as we’ve discussed the nursery, I’ve informed Jon that I would paint the walls. I told him that I’ve done a lot of painting and I don’t have to cover the floors or tape off the trim. So, whenever he’s talked to his family about the nursery, he mentions that I’m doing the painting because I keep bragging about what an expert I am and how he’d probably screw it up (according to my standards). And what’s the argument there?
This afternoon he came home from work and I was painting around the top of the wall and around the windows.
“Wow, you are the shit when it comes to painting!”
“Shut up before I come down and kick your butt.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t have to tape or anything. You’re a bad Mo Fo!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but you keep making fun of me.”
“Oh, I’m making fun of you now.”
And right then is when I shoved the paintbrush straight up his butt. And no, I didn’t have to tape it off or anything. I guess he was right.
2 comments:
whoa. don't piss off the painter. lesson learned!
can lutherans cuss like that?
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