Yeah. It seemed like a great idea. But along the way, things went a little sideways.
I promptly went on holiday and forgot about it.
And then, just a few nights ago, go-getter that I am, I decided it was time to spare those five precious minutes. I had a can of yellow spray paint at the ready. Purchased two+ years ago at a Canadian Tire sale, I'd been itching to use it for ages.
Finally! The time for yellow had come.
I suppose that what happened next was entirely my own fault. I'm a DIYer from way back, but a fairly new inductee into the world of spray paint. And spray paint can get addictive. If you've ever refurbished something with a few simple sprays , you know what I mean. Spray paint had taken on mystical qualities in my mind. It was the answer to all my problems, all my prayers. There was nothing, I felt, spray paint couldn't do, couldn't fix. Nothing! I was a spray paint convert and I felt my conversion with the fervor of a born-again bible bunny.
Here's the thing: I paid no attention to the can. I didn't read the name, let alone the instructions. I flew by the seat of my pants, caring only about the colour and nothing else. I was a prideful spray-painter. And I paid the price.
I grabbed my nearly-finished faux billy balls, and headed down to the basement where I proceeded to hit them with a yellow spray. And in turn, they proceeded to... melt.
That's right, melt. At the first hint of paint, the foam...well, foamed. And hissed. And disintegrated like the Wicked Witch of the West. Oh, what a world, what a world!
And the smell. Oh lord, the smell. I was in a well-ventilated area, but nonetheless, I immediately developed a headache that lasted several hours. Not to mention a suspicious and concerning burning in my lungs.
Sigh. As previously demonstrated during the whole "I'm gonna make a down pillow!" debacle, I've got problems.
It's not the paint's fault. I used HomeStyles brand high-gloss enamel spray, by the way, which clearly states that it's for "use on wood, metal, fiberglass and plastics." NOT on little foam balls.
But you know what? The end results really weren't that bad. After the initial hissing subsided and the chemical melt slowed down a little, the balls began to dry. And while shrivelled (and still rather pungent), they don't look so bad.
Oh, and FYI, this post has inspired me to add a whole new "tag" category to the Chic blog. It's called "Oops!" And I hope (or rather, fear) it will be filled with posts in no time.