Once upon a time there was a girl. And she had long beautiful locks of blonde hair. She was tan and toned and her clothes fit her like smooth peanut butter coating a ripe apple.
And then there was this other girl named Bev. And she had this really orange kitchen. And it was just fine and cute and great and whatever and la la la for a good 5 years.
As the years passed, Bev and her husband Aaron would toss about the idea of doing a remodel. Starting from scratch. Lighting the match. Pimp it out, natch. It was a cold Saturday morning in January when Bev was on a routine grocery run, and that’s when life took a turn. In the bottom of a clearance basket in the cleaning isle, she spotted the cutest little dish scrubby ever. She bought it, took it home and gave it a new life on her countertop. She stood back, tilted her head to one side, called for Aaron to come look, and then uttered the words that would change their lives and risk their marriage forever, “Uh yeah, this kitchen is way jank for this cute little dish scrubby. Time to remodel!”
After a round of texts with their dear friend/awesome home renovator/guy who did their bathroom only a few years before, Eric, it was decided. He would drive in from Colorado with a trailer full of tools and they would gut it and rip it and tear it to shreds and do the thang right. And they would also stop talking in 3rd person.
This was the night the Blair Witch and her raccoon stopped by for a spell.
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