PAINT NIGHT

I am convinced that my daughter is trying to kill me.

First, she drags me to kickboxing so we can pay people to beat the crap out of us (which is mysteriously and somewhat sickly FUN).  The, she convinces me to go to a Paint Night fundraiser so I can embarrass myself.

Okay, it's not entirely my fault.  The instructor is painting really, really fast.  White here, yellow here, black here, moosh it all together, wet the brush, don't wet the brush...  I need the directions given to me several ways, and I need to closely watch what people are doing.  So, maybe it IS entirely my fault.

I tried to paint the way the teacher instructed us to paint, but I've never painted anything more than watercolor kids' painting booklets.  I also don't understand what it means to put one color on one side of the brush tip and another color on the other, and somehow make them meld together fluidly.

Basically, my stuff looks like shit most of the evening.  My daughter walks away with her second (third?) decent painting.

In the end, I think I am able to salvage something.  I don't know, though.  I'll leave that judgment up to you.