Thank GOD it’s Friday. I’m knackered. We have nothing planned here tonight although I’m feeling slightly guilty about that because this afternoon I put off having one of H’s mates here for a sleep over. I just couldn’t face it. All I could think about was having a night of doing nothing followed by a long sleep, fuelled by the knowledge that no alarm clock would be screeching at me in the morning.
|Easy Coat would be right if it applied itself!
This past week has been filled to the brim with ‘busy’ and my body is feeling it a little tonight. It’s telling me to stop, slow down and baby, I’m listening. Three of my days have been spent painting walls and ceilings. I’ve been clambering up and down ladders, cutting in with brushes and filling in with rollers, working a lot above my head and constantly moving, stretching and reaching. Muscles I didn’t know I had are now making their presence felt. There is a high probability that I still have paint in my hair.
|Oh, the stories those Painting Pants could tell…
I’ve done loads of painting over the years and these trusty pants have been my companion all the way along. They were witness to the ‘Tuscan Yellow’ phase I went through a few years back when suede effect paint was all the rage. My wrists ache just remembering all those cross hatched brushstrokes! Then there was the fresh white when I painted the rumpus room ceiling, again. And now the current latte-like colour with an unlikely name of ‘Self Destruct’ covering the walls at home today.
I finished painting early today though. There was Important Business to be had at my youngest son’s school assembly. He was going to receive a very special award – his 6th Principal’s Distinction. Time was of the essence so I didn’t have a chance to go home and change which meant the Painting Pants were going to have to do ‘school assembly’ as best they could.
But did Son#3 care about that? No, he did not. A gorgeous smile lit up his face the moment he saw me standing there at the back of the hall. It remained that way for the entire time he was on stage, holding that badge front and centre with pride.
The Pants and I were thrilled. I clapped like a madwoman at the end. And peeled another splash of paint off my fingers.
The weekend beckons. The Painting Pants are in the wash. And it’s raining. I’m home with my boys and all is right with the world.