The Wonderful Mom

The Wonderful Mom

The kids bought a new house. The “kids” being in their thirties, my son and daughter-in-law. Because they both work and I am retired, I offered to help them with some cleaning. I was being the wonderful mom.

There was some painting to be done, but I’m not crazy about painting so I did not offer that. They went there after work and weekends so I went over week days for my part. It was nice, quiet, and cleaning goes amazingly fast when there's no furniture anywhere!

Toward the end of the second week I had pretty much done all I could do. I was wandering around and ended up in the upstairs hall which I knew was the last painting project they had planned. The ladder and drop cloths, paint and brushes, the trim taped already; I figured they probably intended to do it Friday night, and start the move Saturday. I wasn’t fond of painting but I’d done plenty, so, I thought, I’ll help out! One little hall and then they could concentrate on the move. Piece of cake!

Opening the paint and pouring it in the tray, it was the color of honey, beautiful. As I poured it, the sun shining in through the window lit the color and I starting imagining a pitcher of honey pouring over pancakes, unfortunately failing to notice the tray was too close to the top step. The weight of the paint caused the tray to slide a bit, and before I knew it, the tray tumbled down the stairs, spewing paint all over the stairs, the banister, and dripping down the freshly painted living room wall.

Three hours and two gallons of liquid soap later, I decided to let them paint the last piece themselves. I thought I’d done enough…