The creepy dude in my mirror

Even with dents, I love ya’

Every can of Annie Sloan paint I’ve ever purchased has at least one dent in it.  At first, I thought it was my stockist, but my last batch came from someone else and … yup, dents. Is it my mail carrier? They always come in priority boxes, and are packed nicely. The cans ARE thin, so perhaps that is the issue. It hasn’t caused a problem, but they always have dents and I always wonder why. Does everyone get dented cans?

What on earth happens to them? I’ve taken to imagining that the cans are filled by clumsy elves who transport them in wooden wheelbarrows to donkey carts in which they travel down bumpy country roads en route to the big city. But, dents-be-damned, am I the only person who makes audible noises when opening that new can of Annie Sloan paint. It’s the possibilities, isn’t it? That tiny little dented can is fairly ripe with them, I tell ya’.

But, that doesn’t explain the creepy dude in my mirror, does it. And no, silly, it isn’t me.  I was painting a mirror and dug into the recycling bin for cardstock (to tuck between mirror and frame). I mindlessly tore it into strips and slid it in place, tacked it with a bit of tape, and grabbed my brush. And there he was. My sex offender (well, one of many registered sex offenders in my area… he’s just the closest).

Round about coat two – but before the wax coat – I painted over his face – on a whim but definitely on purpose. If he’s reading this post… Hello, dude… I hope you’re putting your life back together…seriously… and please stay away from my house. Thanks.


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