Really, it was meat's fault

Today I was painting the fance - the fance? What am I, from Georgia? The fence and I was distracted by the delicious smell of meat! Meat cooking on my neighbor's (who I now regret not knowing better - selfish troll that I am) grill. So, I did a slipshod job. Painting a fence is something that seemed like it would be "artsy and fun!". It was for about 4 panels. Then it sucked. I got to the point where I was like "Well, really, when you think about it, we and friends and family are the only people who will see the inside of the fence. And, honestly, they wouldn't be surprised at the fact that I only painted the outside of my fence". I did the whole thing though, mainly because Buckaroo kept saying "Mom! Paint is dripping on this side. It looks like poop!" Me: "Enough with the poop talk all the time! It looks fine!" Him in a singsong voice "Nooo, it doesn't"
All the while Mr.Meat is chatting it up and being way cooler than me by drinking a beer and hanging out with his other Meat Friends. I had had enough and went inside.
Cut to hours later while I am doing the dishes and reinacting scenes from situations that never happened, but should have , like me winning The Smartest Person Alive Who Also Looks Great in a Bikini award. When I see out of the corner of mine eye - a giant bug on my arm! Ahh! And thank God for my Ninja Moves - because I was able to whack myself, hard and with expert precision I might add, on the arm with a metal spatula! Only to realize that it was not a Giant Bug of Doom but a paint blob :(
There goes my Awesome Ninja Girl award that I was getting ready to accept...