PLAYING WITH A FULLY PAINTED DECK

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For today’s column, I am going to have to ask the ladies to please turn their attention elsewhere. Today’s column is only for the guys, so if you are not a guy, please go immediately to Dear Abby. We’ll call you when we’re done.

Are they gone? Is it just us guys? Awesome. Listen, the reason I needed to talk to you is that I have uncovered a secret that I have got to share with you. I found a way to easily get into the good graces of your significant other, and even have them singing your praises. And what is this big secret, you say? Well, as simple as it may sound – paint your deck. That’s all you need to do!

Now, I know what you’re saying. You’re saying, “Mike, I spent the better part of my weekend thinking up new and creative ways NOT to do household projects. I have even spent over three hours disassembling the mower, just to avoid the 30-minute task of cutting the grass. What could possibly make you think I want to paint a deck?”

Well, my motivationally challenged amigo, I’ll tell you why you want to do it: because it seems like a laborious task that requires mental and physical devotion and commitment. But here’s the kicker – it takes less than an inning to complete! That’s right – despite what you thought, painting your deck takes less effort than eating at a buffet restaurant. Yet for some reason, your female counterparts seem to think a deck painting is right up there with the construction of the pyramids. You doubt me? Just hear me out:

As you may recall, I rented a pressure washer a few months ago to clean my deck. Well, it not only cleaned it, but it also blasted several layers of the wood itself off, leaving my deck exposed as the raw, untreated lumber that it had become. Since the pressure washing, my wife had pestered me to paint the deck. We both agreed that the deck needed a water protector as well as a nice stain on it. She was just more vocal about it. “We need a stain on the deck,” she’d say. “The bare wood looks awful,” she said. “The wood’s going to rot and our porch will collapse, probably when we’ve got company, like maybe even the Queen, who stopped by for tea, and how bad is it going to be when the London press starts running headlines that say, ‘Queen Injured Because Lazy Husband Wouldn’t Stain the Deck’? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to raise my daughter in a household that is loathed by the entire British empire!”

Eventually, I just broke down. I couldn’t take any more hypothetical situations about the British invading us, so I opted to paint the stinking deck. I figured it would take the better part of my Saturday, and possibly my Sunday as well. My wife and I went to a home improvement store so that we (she) could pick out colors for the deck. I always saw the outside of our house as my territory. Not surprisingly, though, when it comes to picking out color schemes, I quickly hand over the reins.

She picked out a color that was called “cappuccino.” I think we all can agree that “cappuccino” is about as manly a color as “Richard Simmons Red.” From now, the color of my deck will be known as “Grizzly Bear Brown.”

So I got the Grizzly Bear Brown deck stain, and this deck painting kit, which turned out to be a key component in the deck staining process. I thought that I was just going to have to use a roller, squatting down on my deck and rolling every square inch. Turns out, though, that the fellas down at R&D have been earning their pay. They’ve got this long sponge that attaches to a big broom handle. It comes with a long trough for your deck stain. When you dip your big sponge in the trough and slap the stain on the deck, and in a matter of minutes, you realize, “Hey, I just painted my deck!”

You think I’m kidding. But I wouldn’t do that to you, not when it’s just us guys here, having guy talk. Seriously – you have spent more time flossing than I did painting my deck.

The one thing that you have to be careful is not letting your wife see just how easy it is. I took precautions, killing time in between by staring intently at the deck, walking around the deck, and reading the side of the paint can. By the time I was finished in my wife’s eyes, I had slaved away for an entire day. Truth of the matter – I killed an afternoon hanging out, listening to the ballgame and, oh by the way, painting for all of about six minutes!

Later that evening, she was heaping praise on me, even going so far as bragging about me to a friend. When your wife starts a story with “You won’t believe what my husband did…” and it doesn’t end with you sleeping on the couch, you’ve done well, my friend.

Well, I hope you will score some big points with your missus. There may be a poker night or an evening out with the guys, all because your gal thinks you are the hardest working man in the neighborhood. Just promise me you’ll keep it as our little secret.