by Victoria M. Johnson
I was as excited to be handed the keys to our new mobile home as I had been when we purchased our house six years ago. (The foreclosed house). The excitement and pride were equal and anyone who knows me would be surprised to hear that.
Now that we had the keys it was time for us to get to work. We stepped through the threshold and were greeted by empty rooms. The vacant home looked even more spacious—a short-lived condition—and I imagined how I would decorate it with our belongings.
My husband pulled out the tape measure and I used the stud finder. I had to find as much wall space as possible to hang artwork.
“I like this green wall. Are we keeping it this color?” My husband asked, as he measured.
“No.” It’s hideous, I almost said. “It’s a nice color, sweetie, but it doesn’t go with our style.” There’s a diva lesson here. Avoid insulting something your husband just claimed that he liked. No matter how revolting it is. Instead say something like, “It’s not my taste.”
Looking over my husband’s shoulder, I saw the measurement of the wall in question. Uh-oh. There was a problem.


You’re doing a great job of lemonade making, Victoria.