Service Day

Service day was hilarious.

We drove the kids to the Catholic elementary school we had offered to do an Extreme Teacher's Lounge Makeover for, and went bananas.

The walls hadn't been painted since about 1983, before most of the kids' parents were married. Originally bright white, they were now dingeriffic. The trim had all been painted a hideous shade of dentist's-office aqua. The bathrooms were decorated with multicolored handpainted chalk-squiggle paint things. It was hideous.

We painted everything a nice tan color, sort of the shade of coffee ice cream. We got paint on the kids. We got paint everywhere, but all over the walls, luckily. The kids assembled the new furniture from IKEA.

We ripped out the carpet, or rather, several teenage boys ripped out the carpeting while the older men on the expedition (husbands and fathers of teachers, fathers of students) watched and made kind, non-self-esteem-shattering comments like "Stay in school guys," and "You in the red shirt, you are gonna go to college, right?"

Several kids wired a nice light fixture.

Teenage boys went upstairs to the boys bathroom to wash paintbrushes. A short time later, water began to come through the downstairs ceiling.

Luckily, one of the dads is a plumber.

We installed shelves and things. Two of the aforementioned older men were completely startled and entranced when one of the teenage girls demanded to learn how to use the electric drill. They taught her, and then stood, amazed, as she drilled. "Look at her go," one of them marveled.

We got stuff done. A good day.