Trading Spaces by Debbie Mascot
I left work at 3 yesterday. My foot was throbbing and my back was throbbing and I just needed to lie down. And eat kettle corn. While watching that darned Trading Spaces that’s on at 4pm. If you haven’t seen the show, it’s a home decorating show where two households trade houses and decorate a room in the other’s home. The people are just the workers, though; there are actually designers that do all the designs and get the materials. Frank is my favorite. But his pink room yesterday was certainly not his best showing yet… I like the flippy hair host way better than the brunette superstar. Just my opinion. Clearly not all that informed since I don’t even know their names.
Speaking of Trading Spaces, Marc and I would suck on that show. First of all, the designer would take one look at our house and Trade Professions. Second, um… spend two full days (and HOMEWORK) working?!?!? I think not. I work through the week. The last darned thing I’m going to be doing on a day off is pulling up some nasty ol’ carpet. Especially at someone else’s house.
Marc and I would lie around on the sofa for the first half of the first day watching the This Old House marathon eating kettle corn and then get to work. Well, we’d start doing something and then have to make a Slurpee run. We’d run by Target to see if they have roomier maternity pants for me since I seem to outgrow mine every 15.6 minutes. Then I’d decide that I really need shoes, too. Not the dainty size 7 that I wore pre-baby, but the current size 42 that I require.
Three hours later we’d return. Hopefully, Vern and Flippy would have everything all done for us. But if not, well, it’s dinner time. Taco Bell run. And then we’d eat and I’d need some kettle corn to get started. Finally, we’d settle down to do stuff.
Actual time worked: 56 minutes.
Day two would be spent feeling horrible for letting everyone down. We’d make a lot of excuses. And then just cancel the whole thing and go home.
Also, we’d hate what they did to our room. That way we wouldn’t have to feel guilty about not doing anything to theirs.
But aren’t my new shoes and pants cute???