Actually, I don't paint in the nude. I habitually remain fully clothed the majority of the time. Ask Matt--it's one of his biggest pet peeves that I wear clothes to bed, for Pete's sake--and you get a better idea about the sort of nudists that I'm related to over here.
And that's why, even though I wore my painting shirt and painting pants when I repainted the trim on one living room wall this Friday, and even though I have made my daughters smocks and aprons from T-shirts and their previous artistic endeavors have resulted in an ample number of clothing for them that could be described as "painting" clothes, Willow painted like this:
and Sydney painted like this:
And yes, they're painting with the same interior wall paint that I'm painting with at the time, but I did come to my senses enough to convince them to paint on the backs of old record album covers on top of newspaper on the floor--we are going to be making legitimate wall photo frames from cardboard record albums covers (feel free to look forward to the forthcoming tutorial), but I doubt that these particular covers will make the cut, since the girls were vastly more interested in exploring this new wall paint medium by smearing it as much as possible over as much as possible. Skip ahead to the dual shower, because it was inevitable.
But of course that's not all: later that night I asked Matt to finish some touch-up painting while I put the girls to bed (one chapter of Little House in the Big Woods followed by one twenty-minute episode of Meerkat Manor on Netflix, followed by me sitting in the dark in a chair next to the bed, playing Pandora while goofing off on the Internet and waiting for a harmony of deep breathing), only to emerge an hour later to this: Matt pretends like he doesn't have any painting clothes, you see, because when he paints nearly naked he gets his hands dirty AND you can see more of his muscles: win-win for all concerned.
But lest you think that all I had to entertain me during my long day of wall-painting were a couple of games of The Roving Workman and the Lonely Housewife, rest assured:
If you can paint the trim around a wall, you sure as hell can paint criss-crossing stripes all over that wall between the trim. And if your husband objects, hand him the paintbrush and tell him to pretend he's the roving workman again.