Painting With Popcorn

The mother is wrapping up this round of painting as Lawrence returns tomorrow to put up the posts and rail on the porch. I’m hoping that by the time he arrives, I will already have some brick down on the walkway! (Emphasis on hoping.) If the weatherfolks are right – and I won’t hold my breath on that one – we may get a shower or two tomorrow, maybe, and that should be it.

I truly hope they’re right. I have got to get crackin’ on this walkway. It is taking entirely too long, not to mention entirely too much energy. And August is half over already. How’d that happen?!

The pictures are just some of the things that the mother has painted this week. She has moved on to painting the bazillion pieces of gingerbread she got to put I don’t know where. (And don’t really want to know, either.) I only know that I get to install it. Fun.

She’s not tired or anything.

Last night, she hands me a package of microwave popcorn and says “Open this for me.” I did and dutifully took it in the kitchen and set it inside the microwave. “You want this now or when you come in?,” I ask as she was still working on scraping some spots to paint on the porch overhang.

She looked at me like I’d suddenly turned purple. “What?” she asked. “I don’t want any popcorn.”

To which I reminded her that she had just asked me to open it. “Oh,” says the mother. “I thought it was my tack cloth.”

Apparently she had set the tack cloths I just bought inside the kitchen cabinet so she could grab one out when she was ready. She'd grabbed popcorn instead!