Ode to Wednesday {Wk 2}: Ode to painting....

*Just a quick note before I commence my lovely ode to painting and what it means to my life.*

I want to introduce you to a new series here on Our Life on a Marquee:

<----- grab the button over there <-----

The "Ode to Wednesday" series is just what it sounds like. Every Wednesday I am going to write a sweet, loving, ode to something that has touched my life. You might remember my heart-wrenching ode to the brownie last week.

I'd love for you to join!

Each week I will attach a linky party link that will run through Tuesday night! On Wednesday I will post my new ode AND link up to my favorite ode linked up from the week!

I can't wait to read all of the witty things that you will come up with!

And PLEASE, share the Ode to Wednesday love with others!

Link up at then end of this post!

And now,

the moment you have all been waiting for.

My ode:

Dear Paint Inmy Can,

Hello dear friend! I can't believe it's been so long since we've seen each other.

It's been what? A month?

Last time I saw you was when I painted that behemoth bed that we built.

I hope that things are treating you well.

I, however, am not doing so great.

Thanks for asking.

You see, lately, all I seem to be doing is spending time thinking about you. Thinking about how you take so much of my time.

I stand in line waiting to purchase you with my hard-earned money. Time.

I move things around and get my objects ready for you. Time.

I spend HOURS on end making sure that you don't get cozy in the bottom of your can and that each drop of you goes on the WALLS and not the FLOOR, since you can't seem to let go of my nice brown carpet once you land there. LOTS OF TIME.

I'm starting to rethink this friendship of ours.

Last night, I spent time with your cousin Mr. White Paint and his buddy El Brusho.

I spent A LOT of time with him actually.

We spent hours going over every door and piece of trim in the upper floor of my house. And while he looks good up there

my hand hasn't quit cramping yet.

I think I kinda hate ole Whitey.

I kinda hate him a lot.

Actually, now that I think of it.

I kinda hate you all.

Next house, maybe I won't even invite you over! Or maybe, I'll come up with some awesome way to make enough money to pay someone to deal with you instead of me!

You see,

you and your paint-like family just stink!

I would rather walk screaming into a room filled with a hundred porcupines ready to attack than spend another second with you.

But, you know me too well.

And you know that in a couple weeks I'll get a craving for something new.

And I'll give in and come running back to you and your dang cousin Mr. Whitey.

It's a only a matter of time.

Covered in your love,

Amanda

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