Warning: Totally mundane topic today. Totally. And today’s topic
is . . . swelling drumroll . . .
house painting. That’s right. House painting. I warned you. But. This dull
subject has me aquiver with excitement. It does. Truly. Our home was in dire
need of paint. I do not exaggerate. Just ask the neighbors. There was peeling.
There was flaking. There was fading color.
And now, thanks to Mike and Kerry and Juan, the house is taking
on a glow. (Note to Kerry: Let’s not discuss politics. Please. We don’t agree.
At all. Oh no. I hear you going at it with Mike now. Outside my office window.
Oh my oh my oh my. No, Kerry. No. Don’t go there!)
Mike and Kerry, above, listen to a rock oldies
station. All day. They play Alice Cooper. Alice Cooper. Isn’t that wild? I had
no idea he still got airplay. None. Did you? “Eighteen, and I don’t know what I
want. Eighteen . . . .”
Juan, going it alone on the front of the house, is much quieter than Kerry. Much. Mike is quieter than Kerry, too. Now that I think
of it, a baby with a diaper rash is quieter than Kerry. Really.
So. There you go. File your nails. Sweep the garage. Put Perry
Como on the CD. Go back to your exciting lives. I’m going to check on Mike and
Kerry and Juan. Painting. A facelift for our home. An exterior facelift. Is that redundant? Mmmm.
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