OK, so last Sunday, my Father was here.
I tried to keep him occupied with some shelves I had bought PN, but he finished them bright and early.
DAD: "why don't we get some primer up"
AWTM: (very tired of painting, because of painting the entire house in Arkansas) Rolls eyes.
Folks, I do not mean to sound like a wuss, but I am pooped. Between the move and loading, and living in strange places, hotels, and packing every 2 minutes. I am done.
I had also figure painting the house, would take a while and it would be easier to hire it out at this point. We have tall ceilings, and large rooms. Bedrooms, I can do. But this large livingroom/dining room/kitchen. No thanks. I had called the family friends that were painters, and they were supposed to come give me a bid/ color/ etc.
So Dad and I go off to buy some Kilz primer.
That goes on fairly easy, and we are done.
So Dad suggests, "hey lets go ahead and paint!"
Oye...I did explain my trepidation about starting this. Dad is a great painter, he is fast. I am above average in the painting department, but still know that between 2 coats and cutting in it will take me a while.
I break down and go get the paint swatch DH and I agree on. We take it to the store down the road, because that is where I picked up the swatch. I was not sure of what paint it was. Well it turned out to be Menard's brand. Menard's is a regional hardware center. (I always will go to a regionally centered store as opposed to a big box store.) I also figured since it is their color, they should do it better than anyone.
I bought one gallon to make sure it is the right color. My Father and I put the paint on in the dining room. It looks fine....the color is what I want, the paint wasn't great paint, you had to work it, but that was ok...
I went back and got 2 more gallons.
My Father and I paint on top of kitchen cupboards, part of the great room. I stayed up late, (2am) and finished. Why in the heck did I stay up until 2am? Well, my Father insisted on coming back to help...I really wanted to knock it out. So he did not have to do as much.
Fast forward to Monday morning, I wake and see a horrid finish, streaks, the paint looks wet, but is dry....I seriously wanted to cry.
I call my Dad, who is coming back to help...
and I say, "hey I stayed up and painted, and it looks like shit." "I am not sure what I did, but I must paint worse than I had thought."
Dad: "Do not touch it, I will be there"
Fast forward to my Father coming in the room.
Dad: "Hey, this paint is seriously three different colors..."
He was right,