Our family recently spent eight sunny days in southern Ontario, visiting my dad and stepmom. While it was a vacation away from my writing, I apparently couldn’t last eight days without getting paint all over myself.
I hadn’t planned on DIYing on vacation, but my stepmom said she wanted my opinion about buying a new coffee table and end tables for their family room.
She mentioned maybe getting some build-it-yourself ones from a certain popular big-box store, and I squawked in protest.
Their current tables were solid oak with glass panels, and all three pieces were in great condition. They’d had them since I was six, and they were secondhand finds back then — making the tables at least 30, but probably closer to 40 years old.
Since my stepmom was sick of them and wanted a change, I insisted we could paint the tables to modernize them. She was on board right away, but we knew the challenge would be convincing my dad to take a chance on a little paint.
“Dad, we have a proposition,” I started diplomatically, later that day. “What would you say if we could get a brand-new coffee table and two end tables for the family room … all for the low price of about $27?”
“Ah, sure. Where are they?”