Friday, June 15, 2012

5 Reasons My 5-yr-old Nephew Is A Better Painter Than I Am

I wrote this in March 2010 when N was still 5 (he just turned 8!)  Some of you may have read it before, but I haven't shared it here, and it is a typical story that shows my follies so I thought it might fit right in.

Five Reasons Why My Five-Year-Old Nephew Is A Better Painter Than I Am...

On Tuesday I moved the furniture into the center of the room, covered the floor with plastic and taped off the edges & trim to keep the new blue paint contained. As I began painting the edges, N, who lives upstairs, came down and asked if he could help me paint. I sent him to get mom-approved painting clothes on, and he soon came back with his own little paintbrush, a boatload of questions, and much enthusiasm.

At one point he informed me that I was helping him paint... He also announced that if Nana came over and helped us, she might not see what she was painting and end up painting him... So being the gracious soul that he is, he decided he'd paint her first. *g*

N was awesome at painting the corners and bottom edges where the white molding was taped off & the roller wouldn't reach. He showed a surprising amount of patience waiting for the fun part. Once he got his own mini-roller, he covered about 75% of the bottom half of his wall. Not bad considering his age & obvious height disadvantage!

Here are five reasons why my five-year-old nephew is a better painter than I am:

1. He did not drip paint on his own head when painting above him.

2. He did not drip paint on the head of his fellow painter.

3. He did not get several splotches of blue paint on the white ceiling.

4. He did not get blue paint on the white electric sockets. There was an incident with one light switch, but his silly aunt may have possibly spooked him into doing that when warning him not to get paint on it. Who is this crazy woman anyways?

Last, but not least...

5. He did not step in the full paint tray, knock it over, spill blue paint all over the floor, then proceed to spread it one squishy footprint at a time around the (thankfully) covered floor.

No... his Aunt Neen did all of those things.

In the spirit of home improvement disasters, I give you "When Father Papered The Parlour" by Billy Williams.  I remember hearing a recording of Celia and Sharon singing this song when I was little.

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