This story is about eight years ago when my daughter let me know that she was arriving in Peshawar in a week’s time along with her husband and kids from Virginia. She intended to stay with us for the children’s summer vacation. Her husband was due to go back after a shorter stay. For the duration of his stay they were staying at her in-laws.

I went to look at the upstairs bedroom, and get it ready for the visit. It hadn’t been in use for quite a while. The curtains were dusty, and looked more grey than white. First step was getting them off their railing. As I couldn’t manage to wash them by hand (which I always did with them — they were quite delicate), I threw about four of them into the washing machine. I should have known what to expect? They looked tattered in places, and could no longer be used. Now eight curtains remained. 

The room required twelve curtains. It had two large windows. Obviously I had to run to the shops to find something I liked for curtains. I did have  a mishap in one shop, and injured both my knees. That’s another story. I had to beg the shop keeper where I bought the curtain material, to have them ready in a week’s time, which he promised.

After taking care of the curtains, my attention was on the condition of the room. It needed a new lick of paint. My dear, darling late husband wasn’t in agreement with me. His words were that Nola was coming to spend time with us, and she didn’t need a room do over. Was I trying to impress her? The remark did annoy me.

I got the stuff required and started on it myself (heroically). The walls were fifteen feet high, and at times I had to stretch myself all the way up (my five feet, one inch frame), from the top rung of the ladder. I had to do the bedroom, dressing room, and the bathroom.

There I was in paint spattered dirty clothes and not fit for company, when my husband announced un-expected guests. I was terribly embarrassed, and had no time to change into clean clothes. Back in home country doing DIY work is considered a man’s job, and people think it’s weird a woman doing that. I wish he had told them I wasn’t home that would have been much better. 
Daily Prompt: Embarrassed. Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


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