Today I’ll share a true story about a recent experience that I bet many of you can relate to!
All our kids have been redecorating lately. Our daughter and daughter-in-law have repainted rooms in their homes, and our younger son has created a beautiful new bathroom.
“It’s time for us to get with the program,” I told my husband.
I’d been dissatisfied with the khaki color in our master bedroom for some time, but I didn’t want to get into all the trouble and expense of changing it. However, last week I called Mike, our expert handyman, and hired him to repaint our room. This week, while our older son, Steve, and his wife, Tonya, visited us, I enlisted her help to choose a new color. She’s a graphic artist and has a great eye for design.
On Tuesday, my daughter-in-law and I went to the paint store. We spread out half a dozen color charts on the table and finally selected two shades: Mauve Blush and Pebble Creek. I wanted a color to blend with all the lavender and rose tones in the print of our bedspread.
Mike dropped by and painted swatches on the bedroom wall. Whew! Talk about intensity! If we had gone with either one of those, Robin and I would have been sleeping in a dark purple cave.
So back to the paint store. This time we chose a color more in the gray family: Misty Memories. This little square looked perfect when placed against a pillow made from the same material as our bedspread.
Steve and Tonya left on Wednesday, so she didn’t get to see what Misty Memories looked like on the wall. Would you believe the painted swatch showed up as baby blue?
I took the paint back to the store, and the clerk added yellow to cut the blue. Mike brushed it on the wall that evening. Still too blue.
Robin frowned. “How much did you say each of these quarts is costing us?”
I grimaced. “Eighteen bucks. But I’ll make a deal with you. If we can try just one more color, I’ll call it quits after that. Either we’ll use it, or, if that one doesn’t work, we can return to the khaki walls we’ve already lived with for nine years. Okay?”
Yesterday, I brought home our fourth can of paint, Antique Pearl, a light gray with an undertone of rose. Mike painted more swatches on the wall. Uh, oh. My heart sank.
Our experienced painter suggested we compare the paint in the can with the color chart. Sure enough, it matched the color called Porcelain, right above Antique Pearl. Maybe the young man in the store accidentally punched in computer numbers for the other shade.
Mike took it back and returned with the true Antique Pearl. Now we have swatches of that on the wall.
I’m happy to say Robin and I both like it. It’s very light—Robin said he didn’t want anything too dark—and it’s a good complement to the bedspread and our dark cherry furniture. Mike will paint the entire room next week. I’m excited, but I’ll have to admit I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Luckily, I only had to pay for the first three quarts of paint. The store had tried to tone down Misty Memories with red, and it turned purple before they added the yellow. The lady said they “screwed it up,” so she wouldn’t charge me for the can of Antique Pearl. It’s a good thing, since they also had to replace the first quart of Antique Pearl with the true Antique Pearl. What a comedy of errors!
Today we received an email from a friend who congratulated us on completing the trial-and-error process. She said they recently replaced all the carpeting in their home.
Robin gave me a look. “Don’t even think about it.”