Max'n and Relax'n

Hired a painter to fix my bedroom after I went crazy with the Sponge Off routine. Can't sell a house when the master bedroom looks like a "Before" shot from one of those home-makeover shows. The Queer Eye crew alone would have thrown up standing in the middle of it.

After careful research and near-cardiac arrest hearing pricey estimates, I went with American Painters. They tried not to laugh while I explained my catastrophic experiment in home decorating, then sent a professional named Merlin to assess and ultimately fix the situation. You heard me - Merlin. What does that tell you? I half-expected a whacky guy with too much hair and a pointy hat. Instead, Magic Man looked handsome, possessed all his own teeth, and had a decent head of hair. From Wisconsin, too, so he joins the short list of Cheese Heads who can actually talk about something other than the Packers. And yes...he worked wonders with his brush.

What did I do all day? Hung around like a groupie, coughing up a lung, downing cold medicine and trying not tear my tummy further with every nose blow. So sexy.

The boys and I baked a cake and learned a thing or two about deceptive packaging...




vs. reality.

I know. Looks like one of those sh*t desserts kids throw into an Easy Bake Oven. I never claimed to be gifted in the culinary arts. No matter what Jeff says.

At the end of the day, all was well with the Robinson household. My bedroom finally looks like a place in which normal people would love to get laid while my kids have tummy aches from rock-hard cake but spent quality time with Mommy and didn't break anything. That counts for somethin'.

As for Merlin? We talked all day and I never once asked him to feel my hernia. I know. B*stard got off easy.