Good morning the world!

What a beautiful day!

No wind, sun in the sky - the best day to paint that only window, which you see from the driveway.

Yesterday, when you passed under it, a part of its paint fell on you and annoyed you very much.

Not that paint couldn't peel, but that you ask your husband for 2 years now to repaint the windows.

Well, it seems that there is no way but to do the job on this one really urgently.

Knowing that the husband would be returning late yesterday, you just drove to the shop and bought everything needed for the repainting job.

.

You sit in the bed, look outside yawn, stretch yourself and jump on your feet.

You are totally awakened and ready to begin a war with your husband about his repainting.

-Darling, morning. How do you feel today?

-Hmm. What?

-Do you feel rested after yesterday?

-Why?

-Well, I have some interesting activity for you.

--NO!

-What no, darling?

-I do not know what, but NO!

-Why do you say it?

-Because you are too kind this morning. In a second, you will ask if I am hungry.

-Are you really, darling.

-Yes. But if it depends on my agreeing to your question, then I will prepare the breakfast myself.

-But darling, you even do not know what I wanted to ask you. It's some sport activity.

-Like washing the floor in the basement last week? NO! That's it!

-Look, it is just repainting this silly tiny window.

-NO!

-Just some long strokes and short. Up and down. And that's it. You are finished. Look how ugly it looks now with all the peeling paint on it.

-If you want, you do. It does not interfere with me. I have more important things to do.

-Like what?

-Golf.

-(!!!!!!!)

.

And so, you make bye with your hand (with one middle finger up) to your beloved(?) while he crosses the road to the golf ground (he even doesn't need to drive there, that's was the main reason you live in this house) and begin to write the list of things to do for the repainting:

Bring the ladder,

Bring the paint,

Bring the brush,

Bring sandpaper,

Put the ladder under the window,

Sandpaper the wood,

Paint.

Then you remember and add:

Bring the phone.

Now you sigh deeply and begin to work.

.

Sandpapering goes well.

Going down the ladder to pickup the fallen paper goes not that well.

And after three times you decide to tie the sandpaper to your hand.

Now it's better, but you feel that the dust enters under the nails, so, immediately you decide that the job is done.

You wash your hands and phone for a moment to your friend.

Five minutes after the second half hour, you understand that it was wrong number and decide to phone your friend later.

You return to the job.

Paint.

After you break the nail, trying to open the paint can's cover, you are furious and throw the can in the garden.

But it doesn't help to open it.

So you try with the hammer.

At last, the cover jumps out.

With it, half the content jumps on the nearby tree.

You laugh, because the green trunk with blue smears looks funny.

And blue rose too.

But then you remember the window and take the can near the ladder.

Bad idea - the can is bleeding with the paint.

So you leave it in the place and just take some paint with the brush.

Until you crawl up the ladder, almost all the paint drips down and you hardly can apply some on window.

You begin to get sorry that you were not patient enough to wait just some more years until your husband would repaint the window or you would move to other house.

But you have to prove to this jackass that you never stop the job in the middle.

You hear his voice and see him waving you hand from the golf ground.

He is digging some new holes and sweating.

Now you understand why it takes him so long to play 18 holes.

.

You return to the job.

Painting the window.

This work is not for women - all you muscles aches you.

But you continue to dial. Until your friend answers you.

You tell her in short how miserable you are.

After two hours and ten minutes, you know that all men are animals and all women are here just to make sure they won't rot.

So, shortly, you close the phone and continue the work.

.

And here comes the last stroke.

You throw the brush on the ground and look proudly on the window.

Then you hear bang.

And you see a neat round hole by size of golf ball in the window.

A moment later cracks begin to go to all sides and parts of the glass begin to fall.

You see it as in slow motion, because you understand, that after they will put another glass, there is need for repainting the window.