Fingerprints

When we bought our house 5 1/2 years ago, I loved all the wall paint colors the previous owners had done throughout the house.  Except for one little exception.  The blue room.  The smallest bedroom in the house was painted a deep, dark blue, with light blue splotches sponged in.  I'm guessing it was to give it "texture".  It sure did.  It just screamed out at you every time you walked into the room.  And the light green blinds?  Snap, snap snap!  Someone was really working their Feng Shui when they created that masterpiece.

At the time of our home purchase, Sophia had just turned 1, and we were a busy little family of 3.  The ugly blue room was just used as a  spare bedroom, so I was able to decorate around the blue abyss.  I always said "when I get a little extra time, I'll paint this room".  That little extra time never came, Madeline did.

The blue abyss became Madeline's room, and everyday I hated seeing that loud paint.  As Madeline transitioned to a big girl bedroom, I refused to buy anything to match the ugly walls.  I bought purples, pinks, greens and yellows, but not one ounce of blue.  The colors clashed so much you needed sunglasses just to enter the room.  Night time blood sugar tests required an extra bright light just so you could navigate the oh-so dark room.  By this past Christmas I had had enough.  I took Madeline to Home Depot and let her pick out her new room color.  With great relief, she picked a very soft yellow. We both agreed it was a very happy and cheerful color.  It was Madeline.

As soon as I returned home, I ran up to her room and shook the new paint can at the walls yelling "you are so outta here!".  What seemed like a very simple task, turned into the biggest pain in my backside.  The ugly blue walls did not want to die.  Even with a heavy duty primer and two coats of paint, the blue kept peeking it's obnoxious head out of little corners.  After the final coat of paint was on, I put my hands on my hips and congratulated myself on a job well done.  That is until I noticed one small spot I seemed to have missed.

A fingerprint.

Madeline could apparently  not control herself, and had to touch the forbidden paint.  All I could do was laugh, wash Madeline's little yellow finger, and take a picture.  I debated whether or not to leave her little mark on the wall permanently.  As I tossed the idea around in my head, I thought about the  yellow walls representing out with the old, and in with the new.  

I want Madeline to have a fresh start.  She now has her special yellow room to keep all her beloved stuffed animals, secret treasures and the best hide-and-seek spot in the house. 

One small soft light to check those important night time blood sugars is all that is needed. 

The little blue fingerprint on the wall is gone, but Madeline's little fingerprint will forever be painted in my heart.