Life Lesson #857

When handling red nail polish, or any color for that matter, make absolutely sure lid is secure before attempting to shake bottle.

I have really never given nail polish the respect it deserves. I will after today.

I always paint my finger nails in our bedroom usually while squeezing in an episode of Law & Order. Mind you, we have a WHITE down comforter. I live on the wild side or am a total fool.  I am thinking the latter.

...after opening my favorite red nail polish I decide it needs a good shaking. I put the brush back in and begin to fling it back and forth. Before I know what is happening, the brush and bottle have both escaped my careless grip and are careening madly through the air.

Time stopped.

It was as though there were 6 bottles flying around. That red devil hit the floor, bouncing several times before finally retiring. Red splatters were landing nearly everywhere - on me, the TV screen, all over the dresser and nightstand, Markham's pair of shorts, which are laying innocently on the carpet AND THE CARPET. ALL OVER IT.

...yes this just happened.

A few expletives escape my mouth. Thankfully children are out of earshot.

I am paralyzed for a few seconds processing what has happened. But then I realize I don't know where the bottle has landed. I frantically folllow the red splatters searching on the ground under the bed, under the nightstand, nothing. I turn my attention to the dresser. It appears someone has been violently murdered next to it, or maybe that is too much Law & Order talking.  I finally retrieve the nearly empty bottle under the nightstand, yes it has spilled out all over there too.

Perfect.

I use nearly the enite bottle of nail polish remover on the dresser and nightstand. My paranoid pregnant mind is saying "all this chemical can't be good for the baby!" Meanwhile I am trying my hardest not to step in the large red elliptical shapes and splatters all over the carpet. I know trying to clean that up will only smear it and make it worse.

Only after I have everything but the carpet cleaned, I confess to Markham.

He was pretty upset. The carpet is ruined AND his favorite pair of shorts have met a tragic end.

Amazingly enough, not a drop got on our beautiful white comforter. Tender mercy, no doubt.


I didn't want pink carpet so I opted to "remove" the offensive fibers with a lot of patience and a sharp pair of scissors. Looks like new. No one will be comparing the lengths of our individual carpet strands, right?

...sorry Mard.