A little spray paint never hurt anyone

We moved recently. It wasn't the most annoying move of my life, but it was definitely still moving. And it was Valentines day so that was lame. But we are thankful to have a new apartment and it's all good.

Anyway, the first thing i noticed in our new apartment were our hideous electric outlets in the kitchen. I wish i had taken a picture of them. They were white with cartoon pictures of cucumbers and tomatoes and pizzas and I believe the word "voila!" It just wasn't matching my new cute blue kitchen aid. Danny was away at school, I was home unpacking. I couldn't resist. i had to paint those suckers. Immediately. I unscrewed them from the wall and brought them onto our sundeck to spray paint the heck out of them. I even put down newspapers underneath them. That is how un-lazy i was being.

 It was evening ish time so the lighting wasn't super great. Let me just say that in my defense.

I opened up the new can of black spray paint. I shook it vigourously for 1-2 minutes as indicated by the spray paint can's label. I opened the lid. I stood the adequate distance away from my objects. I did not, however, stand adequately far enough away from the can so as to ensure my complete safety.

I mashed down on the enticing red button, giddy with the excitement of my hideous outlet covers being transformed.

My excitement was short lived as it did not take long to realize that I was facing the can the wrong direction, mine eyes being the key benefactors to the generous shot of black paint I had so eagerly sprayed out of the deadly can.

At least my outlet covers look better.