Painting Dismay

My husband is so incompetent. You should have seen him last week painting the outside of our house. He was outside for three days straight just going absolutely nuts with the painting. He was painting wildly in all these different directions and using all these different colours, and frankly, he was just completely ruining our house. Now, I’ve always known that he isn’t the sharpest tool in the toolshed, but this is the next level. He’s an A-grade moron.

After he had completely ruined the outside of our house, he came inside and told me that it was ready for my approval and he was smiling. He seemed genuinely proud of his efforts. I had a level 5 meltdown when I saw what he had done. He then went on to say he thought he could be a residential painter in Melbourne. Was he serious? Sometimes I can’t believe that I married this man.

I know I might sound harsh and potentially rather critical of my husband, but take a look at the photo yourself. If you walked outside and your house looked like this, would you react any better? When I married him I expected him to provide for me and give me and my future children a home that we could be proud to live in. Instead, he tries to cut costs by doing important things himself. That’s the complete opposite of what I want.

Once I had gotten over the shock of my husband destroying our home, I ordered him to call the local painters and get them to fix his monstrosity of a paint job. I refused to live in a house that looked the way it did, and I believe that I had every right to demand what I did.

I don’t love my husband, and that doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is having a husband that can’t look after me the way I need.