I was going to paint, but...

"I was going to paint, but I don't know where you've put all the stuff," I said as he walked in the door.

Ha! I thought. That'll teach you for hiding things. Clearly, this was not my smartest moment - for a few reasons:

1. Why would Steve hide the paint from me? If anything, he'd be likely to put it in plain view so I'd get the guilts and, you know, paint.
2. Why was it a punishment to Steve if I didn't paint that day? It would all still be there, unpainted, the next day and the day after and the day after, and so on - just sitting there waiting for me.
3. We have a deal, whereby he does all the rolling (walls and ceilings) and I do all the brushing (architraves and skirting boards). Therefore, if I don't paint some architraves they won't be done - and who will that annoy more? Yep. Me.
4. The paint was, in fact, sitting in plain view. Oops...

Steve laughed as I stood there in my proud defiance. He laughed and he pointed at the tins of paint - which were sitting by the front door, where I walk past them approximately five thousand times each day. They've been there so long I don't even see them anymore.

"Well, how about the brushes and stuff?" I asked. NOW I've got him! I thought. (See above for why this was still not a smart thought.)

Steve laughed again, opened the door to the study - MY study, if you recall all my previous renovation posts - and pointed to the pile of painting implements. Okay, but in my defense, the room is unused right now. (Except by Steve, apparently.)

Today, I painted. Only because I had no excuses left.