I know where stuff is. At least within the confines of my house. Nothing is lost. You give me enough time and I find stuff. None of my kids have inherited this. Its infuriating. But maybe that’s a superpower that develops with age. Mom’s superpower is a bit more nebulous. But here is an example. Riley’s room is painted some shade of purple. On one wall is a small design that Mom painted back when Rye was little. It says “Dream” and it has some flowers. She wants it painted over now. No problem. Just need to find the paint can in the basement and hope it hasn’t dried up or worse. All we can find in our old paint cans is a color called Lilac Glacier. If the Titanic had hit a lilac glacier it would probably still be floating. Anyway, we open the can and it appears to be same the color. At least to me. Mom isn’t so sure. So we stir it up and she takes a sample upstairs.
Lilac Glacier, as it turns out, is not the predominant wall color. It’s too dark.
So she sends me downstairs to find the right color. Because I can find anything. After a thorough search reveals nothing, it is decided that we either used all the paint of that color or we threw away the can that revealed the correct color.
So we don’t know what the name of the correct paint color is. But we know it isn’t Lilac Glacier.
She spends a few seconds looking at the small sample that she painted with Lilac Glacier and quickly decides that while Lilac Glacier is in fact the wrong color, the right color is within the same family.
“What you mean like a cousin or a younger sibling?”
We originally bought the paint at Lowe’s and since we have to drop off Kinz and Bails at softball camp, we figured we’d drop by the store. Because Mom is pretty sure about this. So sure that she makes the bold statement that the correct color is two shades lighter than Lilac Glacier which means we just need to find the appropriate color swatch and buy the color two shades lighter.
Nobody looks at two similar colors on a wall, conducts a scientific color analysis in their brain and correctly comes to the conclusion that the shade is two colors lighter. You need some kind of hypo-electric color analyzer to get that kind of accuracy.
Anyway we head to Lowe’s, Mom gives the paint guy the current wall color and he goes on a quest to find it.
Turns out the Lilac Glacier is discontinued but if we want it, he can mix it. Mom says no thanks BUT what we need is the color that is two shades lighter than Lilac Glacier. He pulls out the color swatch and the color that is exactly two shades lighter than Lilac Glacier is Ice Crystal. He says no problem he’ll mix it up. Mom asks for a sample in case she’s wrong.
“If you’re right about the color I will be seriously impressed. Like Dolphins-Chargers ’81 playoffs impressed when Don Strock came off the bench to throw for like 5 touchdowns and bring the fish back from a 24-0 deficit.”
“You know what, just give me a whole pint, it’s the right color.”
Who is that confident about eyeballing a paint color? Not this guy. You want to know who was in the ’86 Final Four, I can tell you.
Duke, Louisville, LSU and Kansas. Dad’s useless NCAA Tourney knowledge go boom.
But you want me to pick the correct color of the paint on my daughter’s bedroom wall by looking at it, taking a mental picture and then go to the store and match that mental photograph to a color swatch surrounded by a thousand other color swatches? No, I sincerely apologize, but I am unable to complete that task.
We pay for the pint of Ice Crystal and head home. Mom pops open the can, dips a paper towel in it and covers a small spot on the wall.
That, in case you don’t have a Mom translator, is the word she uses when she’s pleased with herself. She grabs a brush and covers the rest of the area she wanted to paint.
“Who is awesome?”
Again, for those of you without the translator, this is the question she asks when she expects, “you are” as the answer.
Seriously, there is no reasonable explanation for her ability to do this. It’s spooky. And weird. But it sure solves a lot of problems.