It felt like I was in one of those 007 or Jason Bourne movies. Whatever it was, it felt like I was trying to decode a secret message from an asset in another country … but I wasn’t. I was trying to refinish an old patio furniture set that was given to us by a friend.
I didn’t want to spend a lot of money on the project, nor did I care to spend a lot of time.
Since we tackle large projects with a democratic theme, we decided to take a vote. Everyone was against the project, except one — me. So after casting our votes and recounting the ballots, I declared myself the victor and we began scraping.
At first the goal was to remove the loose and peeling paint. But as the project progressed, the scraping became grinding and eventually sanding. There were cloth tops and bottoms on the chairs and, upon disassembly to get to all the paint prepped, we noticed the fabric was in disrepair.
After many hours spread out over the course of a few weeks, most of the paint was removed and we had a clean surface to prep for paint.
I started with a primer specialized for aluminum surfaces. Then, I brushed on a primer that was guaranteed to stick to anything.This wasn’t planned. We just ran out of the special primer and no one had it in stock.
Once the furniture was sanded and primed, I needed a break from the metal work. I measured the old fabric pieces, added in a huge margin of error and ordered some new outdoor fabric and thread. Unfortunately, it was the thickest and strongest material I’ve ever sewn in my machine.
My mom raised me so that I didn’t have to depend on a woman in life. This means I can cook, clean, sew and crochet. Although I used to think she did this so that I could be independent, after talking with my wife, I think it’s because she knew no one would really want to live with me and put up with my crap.
After sewing the panels and carefully preparing all the metal, there was only one more thing to do … paint. That’s where the secret code decryption comes in.
Somehow, when I stared at the back of the can, all I could see were little, tiny ants on a colored background. All I really wanted to know was how long it took to dry, but I couldn’t make out a single word. I began moving the can back and forth to see if my eyes would refocus and nothing happened. When did they make reading directions so hard? Perhaps, this is why I don’t read them.
To add insult to injury, I asked my kids to see if they could read the can and they did without any problems. After finding a magnifying glass, I was able to hover over the instructions to find what I was looking for. That’s when I discovered that Rust-Oleum decided to print the instructions in a secret-spy-sized font in four different languages on the back of the can. That’s about as helpful as giving Viagra to a rooster.
