When it comes to dealing with people, my mom has been blessed abundantly with patience.
However, last week, as we took on a little afternoon DIY, we laughed at the fact that someone who truly has more patience for people than anyone I've ever met, could be so impatient when it comes to inanimate objects.
She decided it was time to repaint a cabinet from our old house so it would fit with the color scheme of the new house. Instead of sanding it and testing colors, she just carried it outside, put it on some newspaper, and started repainting.
It was at this point that I returned home from work. She was about 40 percent finished with the painting and told me that she thought it was going to be fun - but it wasn't really. And she was ready to be done. I decided to help her out and, my patience for projects very similar to hers, employed the great technique of pouring the paint onto the cabinet and quickly smoothing it out before it dripped to the grass. 
Competitive I am not, but with a hint of competition from my mom and a whole lot of desire to get the paint job done quickly, we raced to see who could complete her side first. 
After it dried (it was the kind of paint that dries in minutes, which is perfect for us) we hauled it back inside, filled it up, and stood back to appraise our work.
Unfortunately, as the sun began to set and the light changed, we realized it wasn't exactly the color we were going for (now we know why my dad always tests his colors). At this point, I had to leave because I had dinner plans. My mom, however, took it back outside, ran to Home Depot to get another color, repainted it - this time with a roller, not a paintbrush - and had it back inside by dusk.
I'd say it was a job well - and efficiently - done.
However, last week, as we took on a little afternoon DIY, we laughed at the fact that someone who truly has more patience for people than anyone I've ever met, could be so impatient when it comes to inanimate objects.
She decided it was time to repaint a cabinet from our old house so it would fit with the color scheme of the new house. Instead of sanding it and testing colors, she just carried it outside, put it on some newspaper, and started repainting.
It was at this point that I returned home from work. She was about 40 percent finished with the painting and told me that she thought it was going to be fun - but it wasn't really. And she was ready to be done. I decided to help her out and, my patience for projects very similar to hers, employed the great technique of pouring the paint onto the cabinet and quickly smoothing it out before it dripped to the grass. Competitive I am not, but with a hint of competition from my mom and a whole lot of desire to get the paint job done quickly, we raced to see who could complete her side first. After it dried (it was the kind of paint that dries in minutes, which is perfect for us) we hauled it back inside, filled it up, and stood back to appraise our work. Unfortunately, as the sun began to set and the light changed, we realized it wasn't exactly the color we were going for (now we know why my dad always tests his colors). At this point, I had to leave because I had dinner plans. My mom, however, took it back outside, ran to Home Depot to get another color, repainted it - this time with a roller, not a paintbrush - and had it back inside by dusk.
I'd say it was a job well - and efficiently - done.
