Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The YarisDay Massacre

This weekend, I tried a bunch of paint samples on my new walls.  (Paint samples. What a racket.  Necessary, but a racket.)

Then I had a minor panic attack, at which point my friend Alan reminded me that I've complimented the mossy green he has on his walls several times, he has an extra bucket in his basement, and did I want to come pick him up and give that a shot?

The wall.  Round 3 of choices.

So Alan and I tried out his green and I felt my blood pressure decrease significantly.  I think the conversation went like this:

Me: Excellent colour choice!
Alan: Pip pip cheerio!

Having settled on a color for the dining room, Alan and I put the lid back on the paint and set off to Restoration Hardware to see if it was still available.* 

And then, as we drove along, enjoying the breeze and a lovely New Denver day, a pedestrian suddenly stepped out into the road.

The car in front of me slammed on its brakes.  I slammed on mine.

And Spanish Moss Satin Finish flew everywhere.

For a second, Alan and I froze.  And then the swearing started.

I pulled over and Alan and I frantically tried to clean my car.  And no, it's not just that paint splattered everywhere - it was that when the paint bucket lid popped off, it really popped off, leaving a two-inch deep paint puddle around Alan's feet.

Unfortunately, I had cleaned out my car the day before and there was literally nothing to mop up the mess with.  We tried scooping up paint with our hands and dumping it on the grass on the side of the road.  (Sorry, grass.)  I found an old McDonalds cup and that worked for awhile, but eventually we had to get back into the painty car and drive to the nearest supermarket for trashbags and wet wipes.

The final damage was three pairs of shoes ruined, a floor mat tossed I a dumpster, two friends covered in peeling green paint, two hours spent mopping it up, and one car that still needs to be taken in for a nice detailing.  

And a final selection on my dining room color.

*I'm going to admit it -- there was a moment where I thought, "Leave the paint here."  I like to think that was Angel Eugene giving me a little nudge in the sensible direction, which I unfortunately ignored. 

No, it wasn't the Holy Ghost.  That homeskillet doesn't care about home improvement projects.


  1. Ha! Well, ha to the last bit, about the Holy Ghost; the rest of it sounds like the worst. My favorite thing in the world is trying to explain to my not LDS husband the things that, in my opinion, the Holy Ghost does not care about (sports).

  2. Sandy, it became obvious god didn't care about sports when the Red Sox won the World Series. Someone needs to get that message to Austin Colley.

    The HG does not care about home improvement projects or else he should have warned me about trying to take down wall paper.

  3. Oh no! I'm probably going to remember this if I ever paint my own home.

  4. Oh, dear! Was the list not on tight enough? My husband's a painter by profession, and I won't let him use my car for any of his stuff.

  5. Your nightmare home improvement posts are making me very glad we moved from our own handyman's special into a rental home.

  6. Sandy and Colt - AMEN.

    Donna - that is a good call. Apparently the lid wasn't on tight enough, which blows my mind, since I watched Alan pound the lid back on after we tried the paint sample.

    Karen - I may follow in your example one of these days.