It's Okay to Cry Over Spilt Paint

Once I spilled paint down carpeted stairs, and just about lost my mind...

2015 had a lot going on, especially in the Fall. I won’t go into the details of the other events at this time, but here are the bullet points:

• My dad was going through chemo for Leukemia

• We had just gotten engaged in the summer

• We had a friend move into our spare room

• Our wedding was set to be in early December and in a different state from the one we lived in (Yes, we had a 5 month engagement)

• His mom had recently had heart failure, and we were waiting to hear what exactly that meant

• We were talking about selling our townhouse and moving into a house

All of these things are stressful by themselves, but we had them all happening at once. Our moms still joke about us being “adrenaline junkies” after that year.

Anyway, one night, I decided to paint the stairwell of the townhouse to match the main level that I had recently changed to grey. Normally painting is a stress reliever for me. I turn on music and zone out while watching walls change color.

So I bought Behr paint + primer paint from Home Depot. In my opinion, this is the best paint you can buy. It covers well. You generally don’t need more than one coat, regardless of the color beneath, and it comes in great colors. I set the full paint can on the linen closet shelf that was just to the right of the stairs, because, of course I wouldn’t put the paint down on the carpet where I could trip on it and knock it over.

Well, as I mentioned above, I was stressed out. There was A LOT on my mind. As I got further into painting, I was not thinking straight. The linen closet shelf was not super sturdy, but in my dazed state I thought I could stand on it to reach up higher. Did I move the almost-full can of paint first? Nope. That would make too much sense. No, I stood on the flimsy little linen closet shelf alongside the paint can. The shelf predictably gave out, and the thick gorgeous paint came pouring out and onto the carpet, but not in one neat little area, no. The paint spilled down about five carpeted steps too.

My immediate reaction was bleary eyed disbelief. This did NOT just happen. There’s no way I was dumb enough, in this moment, to do something so silly.

I scooped up as much as I could with my hands, then I took a photo. At least I could send it to my mom to make her laugh at my expense before hurrying to scoop paint out of the carpet before Andrew got home.

I ran downstairs and grabbed rolls of paper towels. What’s the best way to get paint out of carpet? Fast. I had no other idea on how to do this, but I had to move fast.

I squished as much as I could out with my hands, then I used one glass canister from the bathroom and two of the lids. I filled the canister with water, poured it on the carpet, and then scraped the lids across the carpet to get as much back up into the canister as I could. Repeat. Repeat about twenty times. Then repeat another twenty times. As fast as possible.

I was crying and laughing at the same time. I felt insane. I had never done this before in my life. Pure exhaustion and chaos were merging to the weirdest reaction of all time. Imagine a woman simultaneously laughing and crying while pouring water on a paint splotch on the carpet, scooping it up, and doing it again in a rushed panic to save the carpet. This is the scene my fiancé came home to.

Fortunately, by the time he saw it, it was MUCH better, but paint in the carpet of a home you’re looking to sell is still, paint in the carpet of a home you’re looking to sell. He kindly asked what was happening. I could tell he was frustrated, but my man is a patient one. He quickly went to the store to rent a carpet cleaner while I continued my efforts.

He had to run the giant carpet cleaner many times on the stairs until those ran clear enough that it wasn’t noticeable. Eventually, after a lot of paper towels, tears, and effort, we got most of it out of the carpet.

Five years later, we’re happily married and living in a different house, but I often think about that night and the chaos that was our life during that time. I am extremely grateful for my husband’s patience and kindness. Also, I am infinitely more alert when handling paint around carpet.

There will be tough days, and it's okay to break sometimes. It's human to feel that way. Just remember to be kind to yourself, get back up, and move forward.