DIY during lockdown: an anecdote

3D Model of my paintbrush

Time to paint! Mum gives me the paintbrush. I grab it by its bristles.They are so soft. My brother used to tease me with them. I wish he was here too. I start dipping the paintbrush in the white paint bucket. I am thinking about all those words I have to write for the final paper. I take out the paintbrush from the bucket. “Ach!” I think. A drop of cold paint just touched my bare foot. I start painting.“Whish, Whish” is the sound that the bristles make. I forget about my exams. My hand goes up and down. I am so focused on my task. I need to do it right. My swishing  follows the beat of the music.  I feel some small drops of paint splashing into my face. I need to focus on this painting task. I can hear dad painting the ceiling with the roller. We are matching the speed. He stops. My hand is moving automatically at this point. I look at mum. She smiles and continues painting. She is happy I am there. I suddenly feel a big drop hitting my head. It feels like it’s raining paint. Dad is painting above my head. “Dad, you have to paint the walls, not me!” I scream. He laughs. I move as fast as a cheetah escaping from a lion. I quickly dip my paintbrush deeply while still staring at dad. Great, my hand is now covered in paint. Dad is still painting the ceiling. I ambush him from the back and paint his leg. “Letiziaaaa”, he says laughing. “An eye for an eye”, says mum laughing. Such a genuine laugh. I forget about my exams. I missed these family moments so much.

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