A couple weeks ago, I was painting a bathroom tile in the garden of a Jewish family.
The tile was not in the color palette I wanted, so I asked a friend to paint it.
It turned out that this was my first time using a tile that was not the color of my chosen hue.
I took a deep breath and began to paint.
I felt like a fool, and it was too late.
It wasn’t until I got home and took a shower that I realized that the tile was actually white.
I didn’t realize that I had painted the wrong color until I read a post on Reddit about the same thing.
A couple days later, I got a text from my friend.
“Sorry, but it looks like I painted it white,” she wrote.
“It’s ceramic tile.”
I was stunned.
“I’ve never painted ceramic tile before,” I said.
“Is it because it’s ceramic?”
“It doesn’t look like ceramic,” she said.
I asked her what color it was.
“This is really weird,” she replied.
“We were in the middle of our wedding and I was like, ‘I don’t know what this is,'” she told me.
“So I called my mother-in-law and told her that I just saw a white tile on the ground.
And she was like ‘No, no, you just painted it.’
I thought, I’ve never seen this before.”
The message from my mother in-law was clear: “This could have been anything!”
And it was!
It was ceramic tile!
“It could have just been some old ceramic tile,” my mother said.
She explained that it was a “paint mistake,” but that it looked like it could have happened.
She also said that it could be that my tile was stained with the color.
I was confused.
I knew that there had to be something wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
My friend suggested that I paint a white ceramic tile in my garden.
“Well, you don’t want to paint this white,” I told her.
“If it’s in your backyard, it’s not going to be very easy to get it off,” she added.
“You can just wash it out with vinegar and you can just spray it off.”
The vinegar would have to be diluted and the tile would have time to dry.
So I sprayed it off with a white paintbrush and then proceeded to spray some white paint on the tiles in the backyard.
It was too much, but the tiles looked great.
It took a little bit of practice, but soon the white ceramic tiles started to glow.
I had a hard time believing my tile’s original color.
But I knew this wasn’t a paint mistake.
“But I just did this,” my friend explained to me.
It had to have been my own mistake, she said, because the tile had been painted in the wrong hue.
“Can you tell me why this white tile is so different from the white tile that’s been on the house?”
“Because this white ceramic is really different from other white ceramic, because it has a different color.”
I knew the tile’s real color was white.
But what about the ceramic tile that had been on my patio?
I had never painted it before, but my friend had suggested I paint it in my backyard.
“Yeah, you can paint it white too,” she told the other members of our family.
“The ceramic tile is just like the white clay in your garden,” she explained.
“There’s a difference.”
We went to the garden again.
My son had just finished his bath and was washing the bathtub tiles.
“Are you sure you’re not just painting this white on the white tiles,” I asked him.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said.
It didn’t look right, and I immediately called my friend and said, “It looks like it’s going to take a while for this to dry.”
My friend said, I should probably call my father-in and tell him that I’m painting this tile white.
The next day, my son and I went to our dad’s house and showed him the tile.
“Did you paint this in your kitchen?” he asked.
I told him that the white-on-white tile looked like the one on my kitchen counter, and that I didn.
He then asked, “Do you have the wrong tile?”
I told my friend that I did and that my father had done a lot of research before he painted it in his backyard.
I called our dad and told him what I had seen.
He immediately called the police.
The police came to our house and told us to paint the tile white and put it on the porch.
It would take a few hours for the white to dry completely.
But it was worth it, I told them.
“That’s why I’m so proud