So Bright It Burns

So one day last week I was feeling terribly lazy and decided to spend the entire evening watching back to back episodes of one home improvement show after another on HGTV.

I don't know what I was thinking, but if I thought watching three straight hours of home reno shows would inspire me to duct tape the giant rip in our kitchen's linoleum, I thought wrong.

It's like surfing Pinterest and trying not to feel bad about your life. It's not possible.

Side note: Does anyone really need a cupcake that fancy?

Anyways, there I was, acutely aware of my slovenly state and self loathing more than a little when I wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water. When I looked out my window over the sink, instead of seeing the beautiful vista of trees and horses I've seen for so many years, I saw my husband's ugly oversized man cave garage.

Also known as my nightmare.

Suddenly, I was no longer thirsty. I was enraged. And inspired.

Sure the garage is bigger than my house and is the size of a giant barn. Sure I am not overly happy with its existence or the fact it blocks my beautiful view of pasture and trees.

Sure the entire yard is destroyed right now due to the construction process.

Still. All I needed was a distraction. Something to pull the focus from the 35-foot tall towering airplane hangar parked in my front yard.

Something bright and cheerful to help see me through the unending construction process.

Something to distract the eye.

Something I saw on HGTV.

And in that moment I was decided.

I was painting my front door. The very next day I went to the store, bought the primer and paint and got to work. Once I was done priming it, I stood back and looked at it, alongside my children.

"It's really bright Mom," Fric winced.

"Dad's going to murder you," Frac offered.

Ya, I thought to myself. Boo is not going to like it.

And then I grinned and started applying another coat of primer.

The primed door, viewed at night, with an instagram filter. Which didn't dull the brightness at all. Like I had hoped it would have.

Of course, my plan to have the door primed, painted and perfect before my husband came home was foiled by rain.

So instead of seeing the perfection of a beautiful yellow door, my husband saw the blotchy primed and taped door.

"What the hell woman?" he gaped as he walked in the door.

So I did what any self-respecting, loyal wife would do.

I lied.

"Oh I know! It's hideous! But don't worry. The primer is way brighter than the paint I chose. It's a little ridiculous really. I hope it doesn't wreck the paint I chose."

My husband gave me the side eye because he's many things but stupid isn't one of them. But just as he was about to question my statement the Jumbster distracted his father for me.

He's a loyal kid, that one.

The stars aligned, the weather cleared up and Boo had an appointment all at the same time, leaving me free and clear to finish painting our door.

I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth so I grabbed my paintbrush and went to town, determined to finish the deed before my husband could get back and pry the paintbrush out of my hand.

It was really bright. But I kinda figured it would dry a bit duller. I mean, I was aiming for bright, not fluorescent.

The paint dried and yet my retinas were still burning.



I should probably mention I didn't just paint my front door. I painted our garden doors too.

Apparently I wanted to ensure that the aliens in outer space would be able to identify our house upon invasion.

See the quilt my mom made for one of my kids? When you look at that you totally don't notice the yellow, right?

My husband, well, he did what he always does and he came home. His reaction? Well, it was kinda like this:

Only, imagine more whiskers and shorter blonder hair. 

He's a tad annoyed. I guess yellow isn't his favourite colour. I can honestly blame that on Mr. Lady. I was planning on bubble gum pink and she talked me out of it. So really this is all her fault.

When all is said and done though, the giant oversized, half constructed man cave is not the first thing you see when you drive into my yard anymore. No, that honour belongs to my doors. And after seeing those bright babies you will never notice the construction mess. You'll be too busy blinking away the spots my doors burned into your retinas.

I'm considering this a win.