How the hell did this happen? WHEN did this happen? And WHY didn’t we have our kids closer together so we didn’t have to have two sets of toys?
That was a rhetorical question.
… I have high standards for my home during the holidays. I’m talking 12+ totes full of decor standards. It’s intense. Beautiful, but intense. Sort of like the red and white ornaments Michael hung on the wrong nails. I know you feel my pain. Tell me you feel it.
So, we sat down and brainstormed a way to hide the clutter. In the past, we talked about cubes and/or baskets, but the shelves were too narrow because the builder was a moron, so we gave up on looking for a solution.
But doors? Can I get an attagirl?
At least that is why Michael did it. My role was simply to oversee the project to ensure my chalkboard bookshelves came to life.
Swallow for the adults. Not the baby. They stopped the baby from swallowing tiny puzzle pieces.
You don’t have to say it, we know. Relaxing is not in our vocabulary.