Wednesday, March 26, 2008
One of the greatest joys of my life (apart from the kids, yeah) is having a walk in closet. Yes, I am seriously that shallow a person. When we first found this house, and I discovered the master bedroom had a walk in closet, I was sold on the spot. It didn't bother me in the least that the walk in closet was only made possible because the other closet in the room was the size of a coffin. Mentally, I was already assigning it to Monkey Sr. and visualizing the layout of my shelves and shoes.
We compromised when I agreed to share it a little. And I've lived up to my end of the bargain. If you look real close, you can see that I allow Monkey Sr. room to hang his ties up there on the wall.
Lately, the kids have begun to notice this extra room in the house, and the fact that I am insanely possessive about it. The combination is a deadly one, and guarantees a kind of hypnotic pull towards the forbidden fruit. Grandma H. once told me the kids would discover the closet and want to play in there. I dismissed her, thinking the closet would forever be off limits.
Yeah right. One sick monkey and too many days inside...what the heck else is there to do to kill the hours?
With Butterfly Wings!!
What do you mean? You don't have butterfly wings in your closet? So sad. Everyone should own at least one pair.
And super mile-high sparkly shoes. In all honesty, these saw more use pre-kids. But back then I actually made an effort. These days, I'm more likely to be sporting that sorry looking pair of clown sneakers on the left.
I told you I let him keep some ties in there.
Ok...what else can I do in here?
Quick poker game? No...how about quarter spinning? Yes! Endlessly amusing.
And so passed another sick day in monkeyville. Sigh.