Who’s your mama? Me. I am.
Just like with my human children I am scared of out my mind to utterly mess you up. But considering I have four children that are all still breathing, we might have a chance. Especially since three of them are by law adults. So weird. So weird.
See here’s the thing, DPF, you have not been treated so well up to this point. I know, it’s terrible. Someone literally sanded you across-the-grain. I can’t even imagine how painful that must have been. And now it is painful for me. Who did this exactly? Let me at em. Have they met a Mama Bear? Your cross grain marks also leave me and your dad (except I don’t think he’d be cool with all the Floor Dad stuff so shh don’t tell him) with some big decisions to make regarding how you will look in your future. I mean, I want to set you up for success.
Do we stain you to match the yet to mention previous dark stain only on the perimeter of the room? I think this must be from when they stained the paneling way back in the day. It’s kind of like you’re an antique. Except I don’t think 1980’s has made you antique in the marketable way. Anyway, do we stain you a dark wood color and risk you looking orange. Orange tan, you know, like Ross in that one episode of Friends when he gets spray tanned? Is that what you would ultimately look like?
Or should we go black? Ro, my human child (don’t be jealous) who happens to be black, has been giving me grief for wanting to get rid of the black kitchen countertops. He is using it to harass me about being racist against him. It’s our humor, you probably won’t get it. It’s okay. I am thinking that he might laugh if I tell him I am so into black that I am painting you, my beloved floors, all black. I like making him laugh.
If we do go black we have three options. We could stain black which will still show the wood filler in spots here and there. We could paint solid black. Or we could paint black then wipe off for an antiqued look.
If you, DPF, had a vote which would you choose?
As your mama, and self proclaimed chief of Leaving Her Wild, I really want to leave you in your natural state. Alas, floors in the wild are not meant to be. You have to be sanded, your holes have to be filled, old paint and stain need to go and some kind of finish needs to happen. This I am told by people who know. Sometimes, I try to listen to those people. This is one of those times, for your good, and mine.
DPF, babe, you are teaching me to have courage and trust myself. You are also giving me blisters, and my man, your dad, a nasty sawdust cough. Thank you. You are about to graduate to your new self. I am pretty confident you’ll be living your best life once I figure out what life that is. I promise to tend to you from time to time if you promise to stay strong for years to come. Deal?
Before I get sappy and emotional about how you are going to be the very floor that our family cries, laughs, dances and fights on I will end this here letter.
Mama who loves you