Painting Rooms

Painting a room used to be much easier. Now that I am in the third month of my 50th year, it is much harder than I ever remember it. I used to look at a room, imagine the color, and paint it. No aching anything; today, every muscle and joint are announcing their existence to me through the pain receptors in my brain. Ibuprofen is my constant companion, and I feel ancient.

Yesterday, my twelve-year-old daughter, Talia, and I painted her room a beautiful blue. It is a Disney paint color, "Infinity and Beyond!" She wanted a dark blue for her Harry Potter background; the trim on the molding and radiators will be a deep Poppy. She has posters and decals for the walls that she can move around; she bought a Hogwarts banner and a sign proclaiming platform 9 3/4. I love it that she wanted to redecorate, but I had to let her know that, for me, it would be the last time I paint a room. Sad.

I didn't feel this much pain when we painted our kitchen a little over a year ago, but I was much younger, and not as close to 50.