Bathroom Meant For One

Well, we renovated a bathroom this weekend. You know, they say that renovating is a surefire way to end up divorced, but for the most part, we did pretty well. I did discover that I can, if I try, irritate my husband. There's quite a long list of things he doesn't like:

~~don't tell him that men can't paint without taping (but they can't)

~~don't tell him you really want EVERYTHING re-caulked, although I don't know how to get around this one when you really do want everything recaulked

~~don't tell him he hasn't cleaned the brushes, rollers and trays enough (they're surprisingly sensitive)

~~don't paint earrings on him

~~don't paint the back of his neck

~~don't paint his arms

~~don't fake falling off the chair/tub/ladder with a tub of paint or a knife in your hand. Again, surprisingly sensitive.

Now I, on the other hand, have just ONE rule for the men:

If you're stuck in a small space, where the other person cannot escape and has no warning and no method of being saved......DO NOT FART. I don't care if it's a damned bathroom, just DO NOT FART. Leave the room. Go elsewhere. Tape it closed, put a cork in it, scream and run, I don't care what you do, just DON'T FART.

What is it about a man that makes his digestive tract produce a gas so heinous that one's eyes water and you wretch uncontrollably? Women are not typically like this. Women give dainty little poots, giggle behind their hands and blush charmingly. But men....ugh, the smell simply rolls over the entire room like chemical warfare--flowers and small animals wilt in it's wake.

Now I adore my husband. He puts up with A LOT from me. I have a few (chokes) issues, and he deals with them with me and we carry on. As marriages go, ours is wonderful and loving and I think he's pretty much as great a husband as there is on the planet. But if the government could produce and bottle the noxiousness that came out of that dear man and use it as a weapon~~then terrorists would be turning themselves in in DROVES........

But the bathroom is done, and I have company coming on the weekend and now I can go buy fancy towels like women do and tell my son, "don't touch these", but he's used to that. Everything is all pretty and nice, with chrome and brass combined accents. I like decorating, and I like color. Next, I'm painting one wall in my formal living room red. Yup, red. It's the accent color used, and I want a red wall. Oh, don't be chickens! Ladies, get bold! Live it up with color. Be brave. If you don't like it, you just paint over it. So...on to the next project....but this time, in a bigger room, with the windows open; I can't take another weekend of a farting, painting, madman!