a story about the cutest door that ever lived.

We've been living at this house since April and I feel like I've loved it longer than that. Even though we are just renting, we're both treating it like its our own.

Example: someday when we have kids, I'll let spaghetti sauce stay on the floor for days. Weeks! Months!

If that really happens, you'll find my husband hiding from reality under the bed. Mr. B and sticky just don't mix. I'm beginning to think our kids are going to be born with a bleach spray bottle in their hands and boots glued to their feet.

For real.

When we went over to see our house for the first time, the first thing I told homeboy was that I loved the door. It looks like its leading you into a cushion of yankee candle scents, filled with pottery barn blankets and warm banana bread. Of course he totally agreed.

....wait, that's not right.

So, I (with the permission of the landlord, and encouragement from my Mama) painted the door.

Why? Because it's even more inviting! And I wanted something that reminded me of my husband.

Red hot.

Because he's hot, and thats what color his skin is when he sunburns.

 

Obviously Copper thought painting was super relaxing.

 

So, there you have it! We're hoping to add some rockers and other patio furniture in the future, but for now the tractor chair fits right in. And before it gets freezing we're going to go around all the windows outside and repaint them white, and power wash the house.

 

Now, if I could just get myself to make my bed everyday we'd be golden!