Forgive me father. It's ten years since I last did any painting.
She has me doing the bathroom, which I have to admit was pretty piggy. Not exactly sure why I'm the one doing it, when I've a 22 year old son unemployed at home doing nothing. Particularly as he can turn his hand to anything while I end up with paint over everything I shouldn't and especially me.
Haven't even started yet. The walls were a deep royal blue, so after painting the skirting boards and the ceiling, I've splashed a load of white over the blue to kill it. I know there's a poem in there somewhere. Tomorrow I put on the first coat unless I can think of some way of wriggling out of it.
The worst thing is, I suspect the bathroom is only the start of it. She's been studying paint charts and holding them up to the hall, stairs and landing...