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Clean up


Scraping paint off a wall is about as exciting as watching paint dry on a wall, especially if you’re scraping it off with your fingernails. Let us explain. School started a couple of weeks ago and during the first week of school, Ms. Snow approached us to “discuss the mural.” After congratulating us on our artistic accomplishments, she respectfully inquired as to why the paint was not only on the mural part of the wall, but also on the wall part of the wall. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to admit the truth: we did not tape everything around the mural while we were painting. To clarify, we really did try our best. The tape, however, only covered the section of the wall directly touching the mural, and the parts a little further away were left open to brutal attacks from splatter painted stars and dripping paint globs. 
Shockingly, our accidental vandalism of school property didn’t go over too well with some of the authority figures, so we were asked to--wait for it--get the paint off the walls. We decided to just stay after school to do this, but, unfortunately, it turned out that we had no idea how to get dried paint off of a tiled wall. Our first plan was undoubtedly a stroke of genius: we decided to scrape the paint off with our fingernails. No, that is not an exaggeration, we literally sat in a not-so-empty hallway scratching at a wall with our short little fingernails. Eventually, Ms. Snow took pity on us and suggested that we try cleaning the paint off with Turpentine, so off we went on a fun little adventure to find Turpentine at a high school. Luckily, one of the art teachers still had a bottle left over from before it was banned at the high school for being too toxic. Unluckily, the Turpentine did absolutely nothing in terms of dissolving wall paint. We’ll save you the trouble of having to read about us going back to fingernail scratching, then back again to Turpentine, then moving on to something called a muscle cleaner (???), and conclude by saying that we were once again saved by our janitor friend (btw, major shoutout to him for opening the doors to school for us in the summer, offering us supplies, cleaning the english wing last, etc.) who gave us a special little metal scraping tool that worked like magic. Anyways, I guess that's what us facing the consequences of our actions looks like.

 CQOTD: “Almost every time somebody gives me a present, it ends up making me sad.” 







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