Note to self: Next time, insist on non-disclosure agreement

You've read about a few members of my family: my husband, my 5-year-old son, the cats. Not yet mentioned: The painter.

Let's just call him Eldin. He doesn't actually live here, of course, at least not technically. But he's painted nearly every room inside the house, and the entire outside of the house over the years.

And when he arrives...it's quite a while before he leaves. That's because he's meticulous (much as there are Dog Years, there are Painter Days...3 days to you or me equals 74 painter days, on average) and one thing always leads to another.

He is now re-staining the faded front of the house, updating a job he did about five years ago. (When we bought the house, the clapboards, trim and door were all the color of cement. We decided on a cheery yellow with white trim to set it off and a black door to ground it all.)

Now that the house is looking good, the deck is a little shabby, Eldin points out. He's right, of course, so that's next.

But there is a more insidious reason we don't hurry Eldin: He knows too much.

He knows the ins and outs of this household with a young boy, two busy parents and two cats. He's seen the basement laundry area...the tantrums (mine, not my son's)...the wine bottles in the recycling bin (again, not my son's).

He's seen the sad state of my garden (which he waters if it is too pathetic)...and my garage...and, oh no, the inside of my car.

Heck, he's seen me without makeup.

So, yes, yes, we will paint the deck. And I think the kitchen is looking a little tired, too...