Picasso Nagasawa

We recently had siding put on our house. It looks really great, and the company we used did an outstanding job. One of the reasons I went this way was because they told me I would never have to paint the house again. This was music to my ears, for although I like to paint, it’s simply too much work on a two-story home. During my summers out of high school, I would paint houses.

Well, these days it’s a different story and while I no longer had to paint my home, there were still areas that actually needed a coat of Latex paint, like the garage roll-up door. I figured it would be a snap to do since I harbor all this experience, so I secured all my supplies and on a Sunday, decided to paint a new masterpiece. Just as I changed into some old work clothes, our 14-year-old daughter said that she wanted to help me paint.

I rolled my eyes because this was something I kind of wanted to do on my own, but her gesture of wanting to help made me cave in and turn this into a father-daughter bonding project.

I set up all the paint materials and decided to let her use a roller to apply a coat of white primer. I handled the delicate brush work so that it would be a neat and precise paint job. My daughter attacked the garage door, slapping paint on it with reckless abandon. I yelled at her to do it neatly but she just ignored me, as usual, and went about her way.

Paint was dripping all over our driveway and I had to follow her with a rag. I would have been better off splashing the paint straight from the bucket.

Halfway through the coverage, she looked at me and said, “Can I be done now?”

My head was about to explode. My wife came out to see why I was yelling so I dialed it back and asked my daughter why she wanted to go. She batted her eyelashes at me and said, “Daddy, I have to go paint my toenails.”

Now I know what it’s like living with a Kardashian.

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