Painting the town — and the walls and the floors and parts of the ceiling — red

Painting is easy.

You simply gather up all your old paint brushes, roller trays, drop cloths and -- VOILA! -- throw them in the trash and call a professional. Because when it comes to doing it yourself, it always ends the same way: With you getting paint in your hair, on the floor and occasionally, if you're lucky, on the wall, all the while killing your back because you were too cheap to buy that stupid $6 extender thingy for the paint roller that my wife told me I needed.

OK, so I guess I'm just a little bitter about all this because last weekend I painted half the interior of my house. And the entire exterior of my jeans. And, quite possibly, one of the dogs.

Now don't get me wrong, painting isn't all boring. In fact, sometimes it can be frustrating. But on the bright side, at least the hardware stores make things easier by giving you simple choices like high gloss, medium gloss, eggshell, flat, triple salchow, "Sir, that's actually spackle," and so forth. And with intuitive names like Fuzzy Slippers and Labrador Spirit, it takes out all the guesswork!

Where painting is difficult however, is when you get home. According to the label on the can, the manufacturers expect you to wash the walls first (good one), put on a coat of primer (also extremely hilarious) and then apply a second coat of paint to hide any uneven applications from the first coat (who are the comedians who write these labels?).

By the time all is said and done, the prep work and cleanup take more time than it does for you to tip over your $42 can of fat-free Peacock Magic. Which, of course, is nonrefundable. And green. When all you wanted in the first place was BEIGE!!!

But just when you think painting is the most awful, least rewarding thing you've ever done in your entire life, you finish that last little section of wall, wipe the sweat from your brow and take a step back to admire your work for three seconds before your wife walks in and ruins the moment by pointing out a bunch of nitpicky little things, like how you missed a spot over there and you probably should have gone up and down with your brush strokes and you aren't supposed to paint around the furniture.

As for me, well, unfortunately, I've got at least two more weekends of this painting stuff. Luckily, I learned a thing or two along the way and plan on applying that knowledge to the remaining rooms. Meaning I'm totally using spray paint the rest of the way.

Of course, I'm only joking. I'm going to hire some neighborhood kids to do the rest. Who knows, if they do a good job, I might even pay them. (HA! I should totally write for a paint company.)

In all seriousness though, many years from now, when I'm sitting in my living room watching "Matlock" and eating Werther's Originals and I catch myself staring at the wall, I hope I'll remember this time in my life with a sense of pride and fondness.

And more importantly, that I'll have paid off the credit card I used to hire the professional painters.

Bryce Donovan thinks he'll paint the orange elephant in the bathroom next. On second thought, maybe he should just open up a window in here. Reach him at 937-5938 or bdonovan@postandcourier.com.