It made me feel very stabby. Somehow, though, the paint was almost entirely confined to the cover. You see, that's how awesome an iPhone is. It even falls into paint the right away.
While we were cleaning it off, I petulantly informed him that I had just blogged about how much I love my cover. AND IT'S NOT AVAILABLE ANYMORE. You big hookerface. "Just think, now you can blog about this," he said. OH BELIEVE ME I WILL. I'll even diagram it. Behold:
The Man: Do you know where my hammer is?
Me: No. (Keeps painting door.)
The Man: (Rummages around the house for about 10 minutes. Ends up directly behind me.) It's right next to you!
Me: Oh. You didn't ask me to look for it. You asked me if I knew where it was. And I didn't.
My friends, this is the foundation of a strong relationship: accuracy.
But, the reason it took 10 minutes of rummaging to find a hammer located three inches to the right of my foot is that we are currently living in the toy/book/furniture equivalent of a junkyard. Just about everything in the house has been moved at least once in the last two weeks and very little of it is currently in the spot appropriate for it. This is quite certainly my least favorite aspect of painting.
It may, however, be the kids favorite part. They do no clean up clean up and don't get in trouble because Mom and Dad can't really tell the difference anyway.
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