Oh, Red. How Parker has coveted your hue on his walls.
How he has longed to see your bright color brighten his every day.
He has asked for you. He has pleaded and bargained for you.
Maddie's sweet pink room. One 2-year old all alone in a fabulously tinted girly room.
Two bigger boys sharing one tiny room with (somewhat) white walls.
Guilt as a mother for putting off the boys decorating for the much funner, sweeter palatte.
Red paint. Bought as a surprise while the boys are away.
Finally I have reconciled myself to the compromise of one brilliant red wall in the sea of brown.
Parker will be so thrilled when he comes home from his reunion.
Paint mixer guy at Walmart. With your smug expression and less than helpful demeanor.
You mix paint, my red paint, with all of the excitement that would come as watching it dry.
"Here you go. Hope you like it." And I did like it. Just enough for one wall.
Overflowing plastic bags of painting supplies. Carried precariously into the bedroom.
Time to get started! Bags settled and organized. Husband reluctantly spectating.
Now to pour the paint.
Lid not tight. Flying red paint! Arching rainbow of red soaring across the room.
Red paint on toys. Red paint on mom. Red paint on carpet.
Red on dad's usually calm face.
Toys moved outside to dry. Woolite on carpet. Mom in shower. Clothes in trash.
Finally paint on the wall. The fabulous red paint that is now less appealing.
Until it is finished. Beautiful. Decorating tips of 7-year old a hit!
Except for the 1x2 blob of red paint on the tan carpet.
Which will be cleverly disguised by a bed. Or a rug.Or toys, which will be yelled and fussed over. "Clean them up!" Alas, the floor will never be clean.