Painter Guy

I took the Monkey out around to the front of the house, where the painters are working on our exterior. The painter says "I almost didn't recognize the boy. Usually when I see him he's got food all over his face."

Yeah, whatever. Everytime I see the painter, he's got paint on his clothes. What's his point.

Anyway, we go back inside: it's time for lunch.

(Kidding aside, if anyone in DC needs a recommendation for a house painter, leave a comment by clicking on the timestamp. They're good and cheap -- albeit not overly fast.)