I had this bright idea to paint our living room two colors - gold and maroon. We went to the hardware store, tried to match the new carpet with the paint, and then proceeded home. After painting the primer on Sunday, hubby started on the color I thought would go well with the living room Monday night. He called me that night and I could hear the hesitation in his voice.
"Uh, hon, do you want to come over and look at this?"
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Well, it just doesn't look like I thought it would."
Me, uncharacteristically breezy: "Oh, I'm sure it's fine. What does it matter anyway? We're selling the place."
"Okay, if you say so."
I really should have heeded the warning in his voice.
Last night, I walked into the house and gasped in horror. (I'm not kidding. I really did gasp in horror.)
"It looks hot pink!" I wailed.
(Yes, I really did wail, too. This was traumatic, people!)
Hubby: "That's why I wanted you to come and look at it the other day."
I honestly don't know what happened, but that is not the color I had picked out. Thankfully, we only got one wall painted (and just one coat) so we're going to abandon that color and pick out something a little less...bold.
I'm thinking plain ol' white.
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