A few weeks ago I wallpapered the lower part of our front hallway. I love the paper, I love how it looks, and I especially love that my front hall no longer greets people with an icky brown color.
That being said…
I’d struggled with one sheet–just one–in trying to keep the edges from curling up. I don’t know why one gave me problems and the rest of the hall went fine, but one sheet was being difficult, and when it was all done and dried, there was a gap.
The gap, mind you, is probably less than an eighth of an inch wide, in-between two sheets of plaid wallpaper. If you’re not looking for it, you’re not going to see it. I was fussing over it, though, the day after I’d finished the work; about why that piece was so difficult and everything else went fine…. and my daughter looked at me and informed me, very seriously, “Mommy! It doesn’t have to be perfect!”
I am so, so thankful, that out of all the things she’s heard me say to her in her short life, that was one that stuck with her. As often as I’ve said it to her, you’d think I might listen myself.