That's not true.

We celebrated Neal's job Friday. I ate a steak. They never truly cook it rare, and I constantly have to settle for medium--rare. Bastards. (Can you believe I'm a former vegetarian? "Bloody, I said! I want the inside of a cow's flesh actually oozing onto my plate, or else!")

Then we went dancing for a little bit. Not too exciting.

Then paint. And more paint. And still more paint. My predictions are relatively accurate. For all this time and energy put into painting, we only have one third of the kitchen finished. I wonder why.

Jamie: "Is the primer water-based? I want to know if I can just peel it off the tray after it dries."

Neal: "I don't know. It should say so on the can."

Jamie: "The can doesn't say anything."

Neal: "What?"

Jamie: "The label fell off, the can doesn't say anything."

Neal (looking a little hysterical): "Which can did I tell you to use?"

Jamie: (getting nervous) "I don't know. I thought it was this one."

Neal: "NO. Did I not say to use the can labeled Primer?"

Jamie: "Yeah. I guess. What's this?"

Neal: "Well, we just primed 1/2 the kitchen with ceiling paint."

Jamie (talking to the cat): "Hi there! Do you still have paint on your face, or did you lick it off?"

Neal: "You let the cat lick paint off her face? Are you trying to kill her?"

Jamie: "No! I wiped it off the best I could! It's not like I'm going to be able to completely remove paint from fur. What did you want me to do, dip her in water?"

Neal: "What did you use to wipe the paint off of her?"

Jamie: "mumblemumble."

Neal: "WHAT?"

Jamie: "A newspaper."

Neal: "That's it. We are NEVER having kids. EVER."

Jamie: "Hey, Neal?"

Neal: "Yeah?"

Jamie: "You know how I'm applying for the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program?"

Neal: "Yeah?"

Jamie: "Well, the painting probably won't be done by the time I'm assigned a kid. Just think... free labor."

I was just kidding, of course.

Sort of.