Buckets of Paint
Happy holiday Monday to all the people who are celebrating it in one way or another across North America.
In the summer of 2020 I was living under a very loud pregnant woman (who is like a super close friend now and I’m auntie to the baby she was pregnant with). One day, I was sitting in my bedroom (directly under their living room) and heard her voice at a level and pitch I had never heard before. Screaming at her kids. It sounded like a huge panic.
A few seconds later, I got a text being “come up stairs now” so I threw on some shoes and went upstairs. I thought something was wrong with the baby. I get outside and start to round the house to the front door and her older two children (14 and 8) were sitting outside, up to their elbows in white paint. The dog was also outside and her little tiny teacup poodle paws were also covered in white paint.
“Is everything ok guys?” I asked as the 8 year old started crying.
I go inside to the mom basically hyperventilating from being so upset. While she was out shopping, somehow a gallon jug of paint was knocked over, the lid popped off, and the kids tried to clean it up which resulted in basically every inch of the floor being covered in white paint, and the leather sofa too because the dog was running all over the sofa.
I got her some water, and got her calmed down. Sent a picture and a text to my brother and he suggested paint thinner but no way with a pregnant woman. He also said if it was just normal paint, and fresh, it should wash off with a little bit of muscle.
So we spent a good hour or more using swiffer wet clothes and baby wipes and got almost all of it cleaned up. It was a nightmare but at least we can laugh about it now.