Paint and Pop Tarts
by Valerie Nusbaum
Recently, our upstairs landing and stairwell finally got a fresh coat of paint. That project had been “on the list” and “in the works” for several years, but something had always come up to keep the job from getting started. Randy, bless his heart, took a day of vacation on Friday and spent two hours that morning putting up lovely blue painters tape and putting down plastic drop cloths.
I had thought that I was being kind and considerate when I made the suggestion that we hire someone to do the painting, but Randy saw it as a challenge. Honestly, we’ve had so many other obligations lately, coupled with the hours he works at his job. I really didn’t expect him to do the painting himself. He had other ideas.
My way of helping was to go to Walmart (which, for me, is less enjoyable than a good teeth cleaning) and buy the supplies. To make it simple, we decided to paint the walls the same color as the walls in the foyer and kitchen, and Randy assured me that he had more than enough paint stored in our basement.
He ran out of paint by lunchtime on the first day of the job. I was kind of glad about that, because I’d been stuck upstairs in my office all morning since the stairs were taped off. Even my bathroom was off-limits, as the door opens onto the upstairs landing. When Randy had to stop work, I was relieved in more ways than one, and I scampered downstairs to get lunch ready. One of my jobs while Hubby does “man’s” work is to keep him fed and watered. Yeah, I know Gloria Steinem would have my head, but I really don’t like to paint and the stairwell and landing aren’t large enough for both of us and an open can of paint. Besides, just two days before this job commenced, I went to Brunswick and painted my mother’s kitchen. So, there. We dined on Swedish meatballs over wheat pasta, steamed zucchini, and crescent rolls.
After lunch, Randy drove down to Home Depot and got some more paint. That was not without its problems, because the young lady behind the paint counter was a trainee and her supervisor had left to go to the bathroom an hour ago. Randy ended up showing her how to mix his paint, and then assisted with several other customers. I heard all this second-hand from Randy since I skipped the Home Depot trip and stayed home to clean out the linen closet.
The walls and ceiling were finished by Friday afternoon. On Saturday, the linen closet, the bedroom and bathroom doors, and the trim were the agenda items.
After a hearty cheese and veggie omelet and whole grain waffles, Randy got busy. An hour or so later, I gave him a small piece of a breakfast bar as a treat. He commented that it tasted good, and I made the mistake of saying that it reminded me of a Pop Tart. I realized my mistake, but it was already too late. You see, there was a Pop Tart incident some years ago. We never speak of it, but it went something like this…..
Randy liked Pop Tarts, and I sometimes bought a box of them for him to take in his lunches for work. I began noticing that the Pop Tarts were disappearing rather quickly, so one evening I asked him about it.
“Have you been eating two Pop Tarts at a time?” I asked.
“They come two to a package. Aren’t you supposed to eat both of them?” he replied.
I explained that one Pop Tart constitutes a serving. The other one in the package is to be shared or put away for another time.
“The package isn’t resealable. And Randy isn’t sharing his Pop Tarts,” said my husband.
I pointed out that the serving size is printed right on the back of the box, along with the nutrition information. It is clearly stated that eating only one Pop Tart is recommended.
“Really?” he exclaimed. “It’s a Pop Tart. There is NO nutritional value. That’s why they’re so delicious. And furthermore, Kellogg’s is trying to scam us with that packaging. If they only wanted me to eat one, there should only be one in each package.”
The next time I bought a box of Pop Tarts, I opened all of the packets and put each Pop Tart in its own little baggie. Randy took two of them anyway. I stopped buying Pop Tarts, and we never mentioned them again.
The doors and trim eventually got painted, and everything looks bright, shiny, and clean. Our next project is pulling up the carpet and putting down wood flooring in the rooms upstairs. I’m already planning my menus. Breakfast will not include Pop Tarts.
