I am so good at reading instructions and ignoring them. I often spend well enough time to read stuff about every DIY project. The excitement often derails me from the precautionary measures. This mistake had been a reason for a few interesting stories about my school laboratory. I obviously won’t be telling you those!
This is the unfortunate event which broke my arm. This obviously tops the list but this happened after many years of school. It is the story of my broken arm during our new house painting journey. I still remember the day we signed the final documents to buy the house of our dreams. Just two years after we got married, we were packing our stuff to move into our new house.
It took only two weeks to realize that white paint was old enough. It must have looked great in some distant past but it was too old to look appealing now. Interior paint was chipping. My dog Tony loved to play with the chipped paint. It was a fun activity for him but we soon realized that something needs to be done. Obviously, a new paint job!
We reached the paint shop. You would agree with me this is the most confusing step. The number of paint hues with tongue-twisting-yet-so-fancy names are so enormous we decided to skip on the names and focus on the color. I was standing alone in that decision as my husband is colorblind.
I chose a beautiful Aqua shade as it was so refreshing to look at. We had decided to do it on our own. We bought sanding papers, brushes, tapes, mixing trays, rollers and every other important tool used by professionals providing wall painting services.
The whole furniture was covered with sheets. All was set. My husband mixed the paint with the right chemicals after we sanded down the walls. Tony was loving the whole new mess and wouldn’t leave us alone with the work.
It was the second wall of our living room and it seemed fun. I was amazed by the fine strokes I was painting. It instilled a sense of pride and accomplishment in me. Oh! The paint in my tray was about to finish and I had to do down the ladder to fill it up. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy”. Came down the ladder. Filled it. Started climbing it. The excitement led me to overfill and as I was heading upwards keeping the tray straight, things got a bit shaky. That moment I realized another amazing mistake. I was not wearing the belt securing me to the ladder side rail. And then everything got dark.
My husband tells me (more often than appropriate) that I screamed and fell on the ground. My arm was bent at an odd angle and I lost my consciousness. I cracked my arm bone!
After I was rescued to hospital and things got a bit better, my husband called Tom Sawyer painting services. The house was painted in an effortless manner with a flawless finish. I would easily recommend professional painting services to anybody now.
Not just I suffered from the pain, my husband found an everlasting excuse. Whenever he wants his choice to win in any decision, he reminds me of my broken arm. How does this relate? Okay, let me be honest. I skipped the detail of the decision where “we” decided to paint the house on our own. He was inclined to hire interior painters. I pushed him to a half-hearted or maybe no-hearted “yes” nod.
