Friday, July 13, 2007

No, Sam. I'm Too Lazy to Do That By Myself.

We—and by "we", I mean "Alex"—are in the process of painting our living room, something that will be closely followed by the removal of our filthy off-white (more "off" than it really should be) carpet. We are doing it in this order so that we don't have to worry about dripping paint on a freshly uncovered wood floor.

Alex has been doing this piecemeal almost entirely after the kids go to bed (and I use that phrase loosely, as they go to bed, but don't stay there reliably). Alex painted all the trim and the ceilings, then we moved all the furniture to the middle of the room, and he plans to begin painting the walls this evening. Considering his limited painting hours, he is working at light-speed.

The kids are obviously aware of this process because all the furniture has been shoved into a little plush island in the middle of the room and because they watch Alex paint after they "go to bed." They are not, apparently, aware of the forthcoming carpet project, however.

Today Sam got a couple chunks of watermelon out to snack on, carried them to the living room where we were all playing, and asked where he should sit to eat it. I said something to the effect of, "Sit on the floor. We're getting rid of this carpet, so you can spill on it all you want." (I know, how could the carpet have possibly gotten dirty in the first place, since I'm so clean?)

Sam, obviously flabbergasted by this, (and I can't stress enough the sincerity and disbelief in his voice for the next couple of minutes) said, "Are you joking?" To which I replied, "No." To which he replied, "Did you talk to Dad about this?"

Clearly Sam was concerned by the fact that I was planning to sneak the carpet out of the house in the middle of the night without prior approval from Alex. The conversation deteriorated from there with Sam declaring his love for the stained carpet and his sadness that there would only be wood around the edges of the room, where there is no blue area rug. Then he used six different variations of, "Are we getting a new carpet?" ("No, I mean for this room. No, I don't mean the blue rug, are we getting a carpet for under the blue rug?" and so on) until I finally declared the topic closed.

Aside from the fact that he has shown heretofore unsuspected depth of feeling for a...dingy carpet, I love that he was checking up on me, and worried that I had made this decision all by myself without, God forbid, Dad's approval.

1 comment:

  1. I've read this story twice--today and yesterday--because it makes me laugh so hard.


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