Paint

My unyieldingly helpful mother has let me allone in her home no less and taken brothers two and three with her on the express condition that I paint the porch and garage skirting before they return. It sounded easy and pleasant and worthwhile while the sun was shining but then someone said something about sanding and undercoating and priming and of a sudden it seemed rather an undertaking. My hands are covered in the white stuff and it's fast transferring itself to the already abuggered keyboard and the effect is embarrassing. Earlier I noticed while crouched in the garage that I'd positioned the door in such a way that I had in fact painted myself into a corner and I burst into tears.