Ahhhhhh Day 10. I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. For a reason, a real honest to goodness reason to share a story that has been begging to be shared since the moment it happened.
I have so many fond memories of our old house. It was our first home as a married couple (after renting The Crapshack that is), the first place I could finally shed the dreaded apartment-white walls and of course it’s where we brought our son home.
Sweetey Petey trumps everything nowadays so I’d like to share my favorite memory of our home from before he completed our little family.
While the husband was happy to help outside, he was never so much interested in the inside decorating aspect of our old home. So I single handedly (it’s hard to paint with your left hand when you’re a righty) painted every inch of our house. Every inch but the stairwell that is. Turns out I needed not only to be ambidextrous but I also needed a second set of hands. And not just any set, but a longer set. Even with the extender pole the top of the stairwell was juuuuuuust out of my reach.
Enter The Husband willing to lend a few extra inches.
Except The Husband had never painted before. Not that it’s rocket science or anything, but as anything worth doing does, it requires a certain dress code.
I mean, I’ll do almost anything if I can wear a fancy outfit. Paint splotches are fancy right?
Anyway, The Husband shows up in the stairwell wearing the same ol’ thing he wore all day – shorts and a T-shirt. Decent looking shorts and one of his favorite T-shirts. I politely informed him he couldn’t paint in that.
He offered to get his lawn mowing clothes. I politely informed him his lawn mowing clothes were pretty nice too and he really didn’t want to get paint on them either.
So he stripped down to his boxers.
Hmmmm . . . yeah, even that wasn’t going to work. I mean, they were his A-string boxers after all. If they were his C-String boxers that only made an appearance when I pushed laundry day off yet again . . . then maybe.
There was only one logical solution at this point and that was for The Husband to paint the stairwell . . . on his tippy toes . . . in the nude.
Yup. That’s right folks. I convinced The Husband to paint buck naked. And I was quite proud of this fact. For years I was proud of this fact. Up until last night that is when I asked the Husband if it was cool if I posted the story on my blog. “Why would I care” he asked me? Well, it’s embarrassing for you . . . I talked you into painting naked.
The Husband just laughed at me. “Do you think it was hard to convince me to get naked?”
Oh. Well. Fine then.
It’s still my favorite memory and I’m sticking to it.
To catch up on my January Blog a Day posts:
Tomorrow is Confessions. I wrote this post a week ago and I kinda forget what I confessed to so it’ll be a surprise for all of us.
Question of the Day: What’s one of your favorite memories?