I’m about to repaint the floors in my living room, because they are beyond gross. My brain must have been temporarily hijacked by chic little minions of colorless latex when I made the decision to paint my floors white.
I had a dog, two kids, and a husband who wears muddy boots. At least I’m hoping it’s mud, however, he does do a lot of electrical work on farms. I just choose to think of it all as mud. There is no dirt fighter-offer that can possibly lift the stains out of each porous crevis in my floarboards. It’s not gonna happen. Besides my floors are now a whole lot less chic and whole lot more shabby.
I no longer have the dog, but I still have the kids for at least another ten years, and FringeMan plan on sticking around longer than the kids, so…
Why do I paint my floors you ask?
Well, when you live in a money pit, you got-sta do what you got-sta do.
I just need help choosing a color.
Should I go with a rich brown, the color of mud? Will it show every single little scratch and fluff of dust? I may be happier seeing dust than dirt. It’s a consideration.
The standard gray? Unfortunately if I use gray, I might develop a disorder that causes me to simultaneously sing The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow while grabbing a gun and saluting FringeMan.
A country redwood? If I paint the floor red will I suddenly have urges to eat baked beans and drive fire trucks? I’m concerned.
There’s always beige. This makes me think of old ladies. You know how they like their taupe purses and shoes? If I have taupe floors will I need to scatter fart cushions around the room and yell Bingo at regular intervals?
What other floor colors are left?
I went to the paint store this morning and picked up a nice sample book filled with vibrant colors. I don’t like any of them. There’s no telling what color FringeMan would pick, because he’s on a diet and I think the juicing has gone to his head. I just don’t want my floor to end up looking like a juiced moldy cucumber. No woman wants that. You know?
Please. Help me save my floors and my sanity!