it was rather dreary the other day and i got bored and- because i have unorthodox responses to boredom- i painted the bathroom. flamingo dream. ie. pink. very, very pink.
i wasn't quite sure where the compulsion for pink came from. clearly the idea of painting the bathroom at all was directly related to last weekend's rehabilitation of the window sill. suddenly, in the white glossy glow of the repainted sill, the remainder of the room looked all of its 110 years. very shabby and very dull. and that wouldn't do.
but pink? it is a room of yellow and orange. yellow and orange would have worked equally and less gender-specifically well. but it had to be pink. all i could think was pink.
so i paraded back to the depot for another gallon of behr. recollecting my blue and yellow, the paint counter dude was rather shocked by this sudden veering into such a girlie veneer. as though it were an ill-advised tattoo and not merely a can of flamingo dream, he looked at me with concern and asked, are you sure you want to do this? though i knew not why, i was absolutely convinced i did.
and so i painted the room pink. and as i stood in the midst of my blushing walls, it hit me. i loved wives & daughters. that much.