My husband and I have what you might call “a mixed marriage.” Not because he’s Southern-born, while I’m a Prairie Girl, and not because we’ve been known to vote for different candidates. The division goes deeper than that. The fact is, I like DIY and Home Improvement projects and my husband is a Round Tuit-ist.
I’ll bet you know a Round Tuit-Ist (or, if you’re just reading this in 2059, you may be one). Round Tuit-ists are very nice people. They love to listen to your ideas. And, if you need a hand, they are happy to help. “Absolutely, as soon as I get around to it”, they say. And you will grow old and gray, waiting for them to get that Round Tuit
Which is why, when it came to painting the kitchen, I knew it would be difficult for my Round Tuit-ist. Part of him really wants to help, or at least for me to find something else to talk about besides the kitchen. But he’s never really ready to start a project. He’s not sure we have exactly what we need or if the area is sufficiently prepped. In other words, he hasn’t found his Round Tuit. But I had a secret weapon.
You see, my Round Tuit-ist loves gadgets, almost as much as he hates home improvement, and he loves new gadgets most of all. And I know that. So, once the red cabinets were cleaned, sanded and cleared of their hardware, I innocently asked, “would you rather use the rollers or paint with the sprayer?”
“Sprayer? What Sprayer?“. This was my cue to bring out the brand new paint sprayer I’d picked out for the occasion. Tuit-ist’s eyes gleamed like a kid in Disney World. Then he said “Where do you want these doors painted?
I replied,”How about that flat area behind the garage” and started picking up cabinet doors before he could protest. (By the way, 17 doors of varying sizes can be a bit cumbersome). I thought we’re finally grasped the famous Round Tuit. But fate had other ideas. No sooner had I spread out 17 cabinet doors, when the thunder started to rumble. And all 17 doors came back inside.
Next morning was, as Yogi Berra would say, Deja Vu all over again. Haul the doors out , set up the paint station, then haul them in under the threat of rain. By noon 17 doors had each made three round trips to the outdoors and I was beginning to get winded. In desperation, I asked Tuit-ist to move the paint operation to the covered front porch.
Pretty soon he was happily spraying away while I rolled paint over the facings. And the kitchen no longer was red.
Even a rubber wood table my Dad got us met the paint sprayer. What a difference that made!
The painting took surprisingly little time, although it also proved one of my Round Tuit-ist’s theories. He says any home improvement project simply begets another so, once begun, the work never stops. In our case, once the kitchen is completely done, I will have to repaint the porch.
Well, I’m sure I’ll get around to it.