Not My Cup of Tea

My dad use to paint houses in the summer. I don’t know what the price to paint a house is, but if I had a house that needed painting, I’d pay the price. I remember seeing my Dad stretched out from the top of a two story ladder trying to paint an out-of-the-way corner, only to have a bird fly by and shit on it immediately after the coat of paint is put on. Add the heat, and the fact I have no idea how to paint, and you’ll see me reaching for my checkbook instead of a brush.