The hardest decision to make ended up being the choice of colors. After all, if your kid is staring at these walls for all hours of the day, you need to be a bit mindful of what you pick. I assume the creepy twins from The Shining undoubtedly grew up in a blood red nursery for example, which affected their demeanor ‘just a tad.’

We had decided on a general scheme of orange and blue in a fit of school pride. But as any of my graphic designers will tell you, ‘orange’ is a wide ranging topic of discussion, and everyone, right or mostly wrong, has an opinion on which is the ‘right’ one to use. This is how we found ourselves staring at a table littered with every swatch of blue and orange Home Depot sells.

I pity the poor soul that is unenviably tasked with assigning names to the thousands of slightly different paint shades. I mean honestly, who can look at two shades of light blue and call one ‘Morning Sky’ and the other ‘Robin’s Egg’ and later be able to tell you which one is which?

Regardless of the fancy names, a decision must be made. Which of course we found ourselves utterly incapable of doing. We called in an expert.

Or I should say an expert appeared on our doorstop – not, as it turns out, to solve our chromatic conundrum, but instead to whisk my pregnant wife away for a week of ‘Mother-Daughters’ bonding time, leaving me to implement the chosen color scheme. With her assistance, the colors were chosen, and I was given my orders. And then they left.

Yes, while my wife sipped hot chocolate and carroused with stereotypical Swedish ski instructors next to a roaring fire in a cozy ski lodge in New Hampshire, I found myself shivering in a bedroom slathering Light Apricot and Refreshing Pool on the walls as the wintry air streamed through an open window keeping me from suffocating from paint fumes. Ah the paint fumes – this was the wild excuse that my wife waved about to get me to do this in the first place – ‘it’s not good for the baby, and while your considerable beer belly suggests that you are pregnant, you will be unaffected by said fumes. Therefore you should do it. You know, to protect the baby. And so on.’

Thus I painted as she shopped. I edged as she slept. I sipped a Cup o’ Soup in my seconds of free time as she watched ‘Good Luck Chuck.’ and relaxed in her bungalow.

I’m not bitter though.
Anyway the painting is now complete, and with the ‘mantling’ of the changing table and the addition of a safari themed throw rug, we are in pretty good shape.

Except for the crib.

And the closet system.

And the baby.