Last night I had an epiphany. I was lying in bed thinking about all the wallpaper in the house and how I just hate messing with it. Then I thought, well, the stuff in Faith's room came off pretty easy, so why am I still so reluctant to get in there and finish the job? And that's when it hit me. It's not the wallpaper I hate, it's the wallpaper glue! The paper itself isn't a big deal - you can peel it off without a whole lot of effort. But the glue is another story. Once you get the worst of it scraped off (which is tedious work at best) you still have to go back and scrub off all the residue. And scrub....and scrub...and scrub! It's hard to track your progress, as there isn't a lot of change you can see; it's slimy and gross; and it always seems to take at least three times longer than it should, because you have to keep going over and over the same spots to get all the gunk off. I hate the glue. The glue is evil.
Oddly enough, that realization actually made me feel a little better. See, we only have a couple scrapers, and frankly I'm not sure I'd trust the kids to do much paper removal - I'd probably wind up with all sorts of nicks and gouges in the drywall to patch. But anybody can scrub! (she cackles with glee) Suddenly my hellacious task has been reduced to manageable proportions, just by the thought of enlisting some child labor for the part I truly hate.
Lordy, I love being a mother.