Yesterday, after naptime, I felt a disturbance in the Force.
So naturally, I chased the kids into the van and headed over to Salvation Army. Something was calling to me from that little store. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.
And She was the first thing I saw coming through the door.
She was labeled: “Wet Bar.” But I saw through the charade —She couldn’t hide what she really was. Sure enough, a hidden label betrayed her identity.
Wet Bar, my foot. The label said: “Pottery Barn Kids.”
Her name is Madison.
Of course, mine is a bit more banged up. But what I paid would have covered PBK’s Shipping Surcharge and nothing else, so it’s pretty easy to reconcile myself to a few character flaws. (Madison’s, not mine. Those are a bit harder to ignore.)
She’s at home in the nursery now, making new friends and trying to ignore walls in desperate need of repainting. But there’s no baby on the way, so I’m focused on priorities.
Because it’s going to take some time to retrofit the interior to accommodate the wine cooler, but I think in the end, it’ll be worth it.