Husband: What are your plans for the day?
Me: I'm going to paint Daughter #1's closet - I should be able to knock it out in a few hours
So I go about my business, getting my paint clothes on, getting shit ready, gathering up the rollie thingie and plastic dealie and tape and other essentials. But WHERE is the paint?
Me: Where is the paint we bought?
*HEAVY SIGH. Lots of stomping*
1/2 hour later.....
I find the husband in the garage stirring the paint I had inquired about.
Husband: This paint is likely no good. It's glumpy.
Me: Does it really matter how good it is? It's going in a closet. Can I please get started?
..... So the husband helps paint because I'm too fucking stupid to use the rollie thingie and the brush dealie and all those other deadly tools that are required for painting.
Husband: You're doing it wrong.
Me: What? What am I doing wrong? Holding the rollie thingie wrong? I didn't know there was a right way.
Husband: No. You're supposed to cut in first, then roll.
Me: According to whom? I always do it this way.
Husband: That's why it always looks like shit when you do it.
Me: Really? Because I thought it looked like shit because you do a shitty job of cutting in and also because you're too chintzy with the paint. I had no idea that the order in which you use the deadly painting tools had anything to do with the outcome of the job.
Husband: Well, it does and you're doing it wrong and GOD DAMMIT now look at my shirt - It's fucking covered in paint.
Me: Well, why did you wear a non-painting shirt to paint in and why did you brush up against the wall in your goin' out t-shirt?
Husband: I don't get paint on myself so I wear anything I have.
Me: I don't. I wear a PAINT shirt - one that I don't give a shit if it gets ruined or not. And you did just get paint on yourself.
Husband: NO. I got paint on myself because you are doing it wrong.
Me: Okay Michelangelo, whatever you say.
I love weekend together time! It's so rewarding and fun to do home projects together!