Hey....let's be fair....I thought I would take you on a tour of my closet. I admit I have a chair in my closet too....although I've never sat in it. For as long as I can remember ( and we have lived in this house for 10 years) my husband's pants have rested in this chair. Not the same pants, thank god, but every other day, one pair of pants gets moved to the laundry basket and another pair of pants takes its place....kind of like the circle of life....although Elton John might not have found pants as poetic to sing about...
I am not sure where I got this chair ....it's been in my life forever...I know I painted the chair black ( it was white originally...I guess to be more ice cream shop-ish)...and I know my daughter painted the stars and moon on it....but I've never had an ice cream shop....and its a bit too cutesy for me....but there it is.
This is what I call cute and scary. The little doll is Thumbelina. Really. Thumbelina. I got her when I was a little girl. She was in an Easter basket. I still remember going to church Easter morning and coming home and seeing her tucked into that funky green plastic grass. I wasn't too fond of dolls.....because I found playing house a bit boring....(I still do...lol)....
Thumbelina sat on my bed ....little girls were always supposed to have some type of doll anchoring their pillow on their bedspread. Thumbelina was a fine anchor. It didn't matter that I caught fireflies, grilled worms on our bbq, roller skated with the boys on my block or played cowboys and Indians....No one could accuse me of being a tomboy.... I had my obligatory doll on my bed.
Thumbelina nearly came to a bad end when my kids were little. Even though she was stored out of sight....my daughter found her and carried her off to play.....Suddenly, my daughter and son were screaming at each other....I found them having a tug-o-war ....with Thumbelina in the middle! I screamed at them to stop ....but Thumbelina's arm had already been ripped off. I almost cried....all those years I've saved her....and protected her....and there she was armless.
I found a big upholstery needle and some tough thread and sewed her arm back. Since I can't sew......I can tell youThumbelina looks like she visted Dr. Frankenstein for her reconstructive surgery. But I put her dress back on....stored her way up on the closet shelf....and now that my kids are teenagers....she seems to be safe.
The scary cow comes from my grandparents. It was in my grandmother's house for a long time even when I was a kid. It scared me. Look at it's feet. It never could stand upright even with those plastic shoes. There was a older man in my neighborhood who had a big metal and leather leg brace--my mother told me he had polio. I didn't know what polio was but I was sure scary cow had it too.
These are my free-range shirts. They don't live in a glass-enclosed cabinent. They touch one another, share lint and appear to be colored-challenged.
Tomorrow I'm going to sit in my closet and see what I think about. This will be a first.
