I was back in the shop this weekend cleaning up the stool for my daughter and teaching her how to use some of the equipment. Here she is giving it a test run.
I was ready to put on a few coats of shellac, but she had a better idea.
“Daddy, let’s paint it pink.”
“Ummm, I don’t have any pink paint. We do have leftover purple paint from your bedroom.”
“PURPLE!!! Yeay!!! Do you have a little kids paint brush”?
Instead of watching Frozen for the 100th time, she asked to put a second coat on last night. Then during breakfast this morning she asked if we could check and see if the paint was dry. She rarely thinks of anything other than food, Ana, or Elsa. Smitten would be an understatement.
I try not be be precious about my stuff. If I was, I wouldn’t have taught my daughter how to use a paint brush for the first time. She wouldn’t tell other people about the purple stool she made with her dad. And I’d be lame…