Painting the Estrogren Palace

It looks like I'll be returning to an estrogen palace when I get home to Morehead from my five-week stay in Philadelphia.

Mrs. RSI and the two daughters RSI started painting up a storm as soon as I left town. That's no surprise. I'm extremely allergic to paint and the only time anybody can do some painting is when I'm out of town for more than a week. The physical plant people at Morehead State painted my office and the halls in my building in January and Februar and I couldn't go back for more than five or ten minutes at a time until April.

But I have an ominous feeling about the colors. The kitchen is changing from whatever color it was (as a "guy's guy, I don't really notice these things) to "cocoa-butter" yellow.

I have no idea what color that is, but I got an ominous feeling when Miss Teen RSI told me how "pretty" it was.

I wasn't that excited about hearing the living room was being painted "rose-pink" either.

But there comes a time when every father of daughters has to "man up" and face the prospect of full-time immersion in the aesthetics of 21st century teen-age femininity. If the guy who lived across the street from my parents could get through raising six daughters, I can certainly survive the estrogen onslaught from my two girls.

It's the price we pay for our commitment to the traditional family.