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I started painting our living room this weekend.
Well, actually it's entire upstairs minus the bedrooms and the bathrooms. It's a lot of walls.
We're having Luke's 1st Communion party here two weeks from today, and, I don't know, it just seemed like a good idea.
Ben told me fairly early into the process that he didn't really like the yellow I picked out.
What the heck does he know? Nothing!
We were two coats in when we called it a night. I was still mad at him for his comment, but I was slowly starting to doubt my pick as well.
The next morning it was incredibly obvious that it was NOT the right color.
I admitted defeat and made a massive apology.
We've spent the day going over everything that we have already painted--this time in a Ben approved color.
It's painful. Very painful.
