There have been a couple of times when my DIYs have gotten me in hot water.
I'll tell you about the first time Bill's patience reached a boiling point.
The kitchen floor when we bought the house was a gross off white vinyl.
I'm quite sure it was bottom of the line flooring.
You can image what it was like to keep this floor clean with three kids, a dog and a cat.
Picture it for a minute if you will...
Thank you -pity party over.
I mopped every day or every other day.
I saw an article in one of my magazines about painted concrete floors.
Bill and I have differing views of DIY.
I'm a "throw it together and see what happens" type.
He is more of a planner.
See how happy planning makes him?
Sometimes these two don't mix very well.
I decided to rip up the vinyl flooring one morning after he left for work.
I just could not mop that floor one more time!
It was all going pretty well until I got to the pantry and the laundry room.
Most of the kitchen was finished by the time he came home but I ran out of steam and I could not get the vinyl off in those two small areas.
Bill did not appreciate what I had done.
I was in trouble but the gray floor with a stamped brick pattern looked super cute and it saved me from daily mopping.
All was well, or so I thought, until it was time to lay new flooring over the painted surface.
The floor guy said that the glue for the new floor would not stick to the concrete paint and the paint had to be sanded off.
I think I saw steam coming out of Bill's ears.
For quite a while after that incident, I asked permission before embarking on another project that would land me in a scalding bath of trouble.
Asking permission doesn't always keep turmoil at bay.
I few weeks ago, I shared that I was painting our kitchen cabinets.
The French door in the kitchen hadn't been painted in years and it looked brown next to the white cabinets.
I remember being traumatized because my dad made me scrape paint off of glass at some point during my childhood. I decided to loosen the plastic molding piece on the door.
It seemed easier to pull the grids away from the glass to paint them.
Painter's tape was out of the question. I'm not nearly patient enough for that.
I accidentally got a dab of oil based paint on the upper right hand corner of the glass so I used a finger to scrape it off before it dried.
Like some sort of slow motion nightmare the glass gave way.
"This isn't going to end well." was my thought as the panel cascaded to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
The vinyl floor immediately popped into my head.
I'd landed myself in another simmering cauldron of H2O.
Oops.
The new door has been delivered and it will be installed on Monday.
No grids.
I'll be back with a reveal and our thought process.
There is still time to link to Monday Social #6.
Katie
