I have bought a table cloth.
Yeah, no big deal right?
Except, this time I didn't buy it to cover up a fucked up looking table. Oh no, this time, I bought it because I wanted to protect my table, keep it from getting fucked up.
It gets worse.
I didn't only buy a table cloth. I also bought... furniture polish. Yeah, that stuff that smells like lemons that you spray on wooden stuff? Yeah, that.
Now, you see, dear reader, I had promised myself when I was ten that I would never, ever, ever, ever buy furniture polish. It was due to a vendetta I had with my grandmother who made me polish all the furniture in the house as my
Up until now, I have managed to not own any furniture that I couldn't wipe down with a damp rag. Until my table. My dining room table to be exact. The dining room table that Veronique's parents gave me and that I L-O-V-E. I have been in love with this table since the first time Veronique took me to her house. I told her as much and she gave me that weird look that you give people when you don't quite comprehend yet the love you can have for a piece of furniture. When her mother asked me if I wanted it, I almost fainted. I may have fainted. But, now it is here. Now it is sitting in my kitchen area in it's gorgeous splendor. And until today, no one was allowed to eat on it because I hadn't yet bought a table cloth that would protect it's wooden beauty.
But now I have. I bought two actually. One of those flannel bottomed, vinyl topped table cloths that the girls could actually spill on and then a pretty, dark blue table cloth for dress up :)
And furniture polish to run into it's skin and make it pretty.
Yup, I think it is official. You know you are a grown up when you have intimate feelings for a piece of furniture.
~Kate
