You all know how much I love my wonderful husband - he's great and everything, but he tends to make me sick. Reason being, he can pretty much do everything and do it well. I mean, the man climbs, snowboards, flies, wake boards, hikes, run, exercises, organizes and just pretty much does everything better than me. If he doesn't know how to do it, he figures it out. He's even a better cook than I am!! (I say that cause even though I'm a good cook, I follow recipes, he just does it - no recipes, no guidelines, he just decides he wants to figure out how to make something and he does it, and 99 times out of 100, it tastes great.) However, after 6 years together, I have FINALLY found something that I can do better than him, hands-down, no contest. What is that one thing? Paint! Yes, I am a better painter than Tom. While we lived in Enid I decided to paint the walls. Tom offered to help, but I was using multiple colors and doing different things, so I told him he didn't have to help. Well, a couple weeks ago we had to paint the walls back (side note - yes, the base made us paint. However, in their eyes, it wasn't painting, it was just priming. They didn't require us to paint - oh no - we just had to prime, no big deal, cause that's not pretty much the same thing. Anyways, I digress...) So, once the movers had taken everything out of the house, we got the primer and started painting and to my horror (and that of my parents who saw the house the next day) Tom was a TERRIBLE painter!! He dripped all over the floor, I mean ALL OVER. He had drips on the wall, he wasn't consistent in his application (some spots were well covered, others required a second and sometimes third coat), he got some on the ceiling, oh, and he got it all over himself. I, on the other hand, had minimal drips and one tiny drop on my shirt. He even managed to get it on his belt...over his rear pocket!! How? Who knows! Anyways, bottom line, if nothing else, I'm a better painter than he is, so there.
By the way, my parents were so surprised by the amount of primer on the floor that my mother started to scold me!! I hurried to tell her it wasn't me, to which she said, "Well, good, I taught you better than that."
