Patience is virtue

My husband, Joe, is a saint! Perhaps some would disagree, but yesterday, he had the patience of a saint! I have been talking about trying some new colors for the living room for quite some time. Yesterday, Joe kindly agreed to try the colors I had picked, and paint a wall for me. He painted the wall for me not one, not two, not three, but four times, only to return it to the original color it had been painted in the beginning.

Katie stood ever so quietly in his shadow, hands clasped behind her back, in observation of his effort. "That is beautiful, Daddy," she kept saying with every new color application. Despite all my in-decisions, Joe still found a few laughs to offer to her repeated compliments. With every offering, she would inch a little closer in hopes that Daddy would hand her a brush to paint with. With the final color on the wall, he did.

I learned a bit about patience yesterday from two of my favorite people, and in the end, we all celebrated. I was happy with the color on the wall (even if it ended up being the same as it was when we started), Joe got "his choice" for dinner, Katie celebrated by twirling her Dora ribbon, and Conor found entertainment in his sister. In the words of Will Ferrell, "It was a nice little Saturday..."