Conversations

I was talking to our painter yesterday afternoon and he asked if we had any kids. For some reason he assumed we had one. I told him we did not, and he said quickly, "Good, don't have any!" Not knowing what life experiences could lead him to this belief, I smiled and decided to tell him we were beginning In Vitro this month and told him about how my husband and I decided that we wanted to have a family. I didn't go into the blessing that we believed family to be or the importance of loving and raising children who know God, instead he launched into his own story of people that he knew that had In Vitro and had done well with it, and so the conversation moved on.

We chatted of many things. We discovered we had a mutual acquaintence who had adopted from China. That was fun to know. We also discussed the poor state of the wood on our porch that would need to be replaced, and for some reason he felt comfortable telling me how he had cussed out my husband to his subordinate, because my husband forgot to leave the extension cord connected so they would have power their second day on the job. They had to come back again because our guy was shorthanded. He thinks his hired hand was sleeping off the results of partying after the Flyers game.

Well, I just never would have had the opportunity to chat with our painter unless I came out of my house to shake his hand. I could have snuck in the back way and never said hello, but I wanted to have some face to face contact and fully be able to appreciate his work in his presence. I'm not sure how picky to be. There was paint on the mulch, and on the grass in a few spots, and I noticed he had painted up onto the trim in one spot. What would you do? How picky would you be? How picky should I be?