"Susie is busy getting the homecoming float ready. She's using my paint brushes. She reassures me that they are being cleaned out perfectly, but I have not seen them yet. Oh well without my five good paintbrushes I will never have to paint again."
Want to know the rest of that story? I did clean them out every night until Friday, when I had to leave early and asked my friend to clean them out. She promised she would. She didn't. She did put them in the trunk of her car, so when I got them a week later, they were all crusted over. I, of course, hid them from my dad until he asked a month later where all his paintbrushes and rollers were. I began to cry and tell him how sorry I was. He said, did I not realize they were 40 dollar real sheepskin rollers for each one?
No. I didn't. He didn't get mad. He just said something like, "Well, okay." And then life continued on. I still feel badly.
My thoughts today? My sweet dad! I'm sorry! You were so nice to loan them to me.
Towards the kids in leadership who I asked if they would pay me back since they didn't take care of the brushes--and they voted on it and said no--I say today, Damn you selfish rich teenagers! I didn't like any of them anyway.
What an awesome Dad, I didn't realize he knew the result of his brushes before I did. I really had all the assurance that I'd get them back to him safe and sound.
