Sunday, March 6, 2011

the end table

Not my favorite, but it came free. With the house. Unless you count it as part of the house payment. Then it was quite expensive.

Breakable, stylish (but not sure when or where), functional. Necessary, but still, not my personal choice.

Et, voila! It becomes instantly transformed from the former use as an actual end table AND a toy box for Bubba. Enter: an almost 2 year old preschooler, who unceremoniously dumps the toy box baskets, crawls inside, lays down, and is ready for a blankie, a pillow, a toy, and a cozy resting spot. A hideout!

Of course. No one can see him.

That's all we really need in life. Imagination. A pillow. A blankie. A toy. And a hideout.

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