Ode to Teresa the Painter

In one short day I tried to paint

A ceiling and a wall

And after 7 hours I just

Wanted to sit and bawl!

The ceiling fell in tiny chunks

Of numerous, varied size

It was in my hair, and in my clothes

and even in my eyes

To console my weary, sorrowed mind

After such a painful ordeal

I tried to paint a wall with a shade

That would make a blind man squeal

My lovely red that I picked out

That would really do the trick

Had been mixed instead as a deep rouge

Like a harlot's bright lipstick

I finally found consolation

In my hallway of spicy brown

And finished all my labors

As the sun was going down

As I cleaned my brushes again

Hoping to be done soon

It struck me with amazement

THIS IS ONLY ONE STINKIN' ROOM

Dear Teresa has been working

Behind that roller each day

Tackling trim and primer

And that dog that gets in the way.

She proceeds with indomitable spirit

As her service of mother and wife

The understood level of effort makes me

Think I've slacked all my life!!

So take courage as you look to the next room

As you think it will never end

That last brush will be thrown away someday

It truly is just 'round the bend.

My admiration in your efforts has soared

Since completing my very small task.

For you to help with MY painting projects

Is something I never will ask!

Written by

A friend who apparently felt that opening her house to a week and a half Wade Invasion last fall was not enough, and has loaded up her army numerous times to come out and help us paint. Thank you so much for all of your help! (And the laugh!)