Joseph is an amazing, gorgeous, kind, funny husband . . . he loves me completely and never lets me forget it. I am lucky to have him. Really. I am.
That said . . . .
A couple of months ago our automatic garage door stopped working. Since it was older than our children, fixing it was more expensive than getting a new one. Joseph diligently shopped around and found a used one that would fit our garage. We went over and got it for a good price and felt proud of ourselves.
Then it sat in the garage in pieces while Joseph researched online exactly how to put it together. Just as he was getting ready to start, however, he was inspired to additional creativity. "I think we should paint it first," he said. "I will go look at colors at Home Depot." (Tami shudders at the thought but tries to still her quailing heart.) He brings home those lovely cardboard swatches of color and amid the dark forest greens I had suggested were some very pink/purple hues I hadn't anticipated. I gave him my thoughts on the best choice, but really, I have run over almost everything in this house--what is on the walls, the furniture, etc., and the garage is HIS domain, so I let him choose.
Last nite at midnite he was out there painting the first of three panels and he called me out to take a look.
QUITE the shade. I had hoped perhaps eggplant but this is more like . . . not eggplant. This morning he took the panels outside and put them next to the house to see how they blended with the stone and shingle siding.
Perhaps blended is too strong a word.
No, it's just the wrong word.
Clash? There, that's the right word.
IT clashes. Brilliantly. It looks like the swollen thumb on an otherwise handsome hand.
But . .. I love that man and if this is the color he likes, then I will grow to like (read: ignore) it as well.
Of course, he is rather dubious also, but I bet it stays. He says it stretches his boundaries.
Yea, right. Stretch. That's the right word, honey.