Image credit: Flickr
The other day, my four-year-old asked to go outside and I told him we'd probably go out later.
“But Mom,” he whined. “Later is not what I like.”
Well, let the record show that he gets those sentiments from me. Later is not what I like, either. And unfortunately, there is an area of our laundry room that paid the price last week for my impatience.
You see, I recently became
completely slightly obsessed
with Norwex cleaning products (more on that in another post because OH MY GOSH I’M
POSTING EVERY DAY THIS MONTH). After
using the lovely cloths and such for awhile, I decided they were in need of
their own little hanging place to get all dry and disinfected like they
do. Well, once a project idea enters my
head I must make it happen immediately.
So I was soon off to the store in search of supplies.
My first idea? Wall-mounted clips. But after scouting unsuccessfully and coming home to consult Google with similarly poor results, I moved on to Plan B: Magnetic clips attached to magnetic wall strips.
Let’s just say … FAIL.
Which is how I ended up standing in the basement in front of Mark’s tool collection one day last week, a new shelf from Target in hand. Something unfortunate happens to me when I’m in the presence of things like nail guns and cordless drills, where I somehow decide that I have the ability to use them. When in fact - as I have proven several times in the past - I do not. The last time I put such misplaced confidence in my power tool skills resulted in a sizable hole in the ceiling of Maya’s room. I also told Mark after that incident that I’d refrain from using the cordless drill in the future and wait for help instead.
It is with great regret that I post the following picture of what my laundry room wall looked like last Wednesday afternoon.
Someone please alert the good people at Pinterest, because I clearly deserve to have my account permanently deleted.
But don’t worry! It doesn't look quite that bad anymore. Nope. Because, what did I do? I stuck a piece of scrap fabric right smack over most of the ugly spots, rigged the shelf to be (mostly) secure and (pretty much) straight, shut the door and ran away.
To Mark’s credit, he didn't say much when he got home.
“Should I look behind that piece of cloth?”
“No, probably not. Sorry I used the drill again.”
* * * *
I'm blogging every day this month with all of these brilliant people. It's my ...