2 Girls, 1 B ox
I took it upon myself to clean out a closet today.
Our tiny little house has only two coat-sized closets, and unfortunately, the closet in the girls’ room is for storing things like the vacuum, linens, gift wrap, and my awesome stockpile of deodorant and bodywash. I have no idea what I will do when they become teenagers and demand more space. Hopefully we will have moved, but for now the deodorant is staying put!
The closet is getting out of control and it seems that every time I remember I need to do that task, someone is taking a nap in the bedroom. Sam was just poking around in there the other morning, huffing and puffing about how he couldn’t find whatever it was he was looking for. He came out of the closet all crabby so I thought I should make it a priority to get the closet in tip-top shape. Nevermind the 50 loads of laundry in the family room that need washed, folded, and put away- I’m cleaning the closet.
What my oldest doesn’t know is that inside of her closet is my gift reserve. I try to collect things when I find them on sale and have been chucking little trinkets in there for Easter, birthdays, Christmas, and what-not. All it would take is a quick peek in there for Ava to figure out who the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and Santa are in one moment.
Total Devastation.
So I got started, wheeled out the vacuum, swiped the prizes out of the room before the girls noticed, and began to take inventory of my small deodorant mountain. Thankfully, we have enough deodorant, bodywash, razors, shampoo, and tampax to get us through a nuclear holocaust; just missing the bomb shelter. I also found golf balls, copy paper, and more gift bags than I dare admit/
I’m one of those people that hates to throw out a good gift bag. As long as it’s not ripped or wrinkled and doesn’t have someone else’s name on it, then it is ok in my book. The part I really don’t want to admit is that I also save the tissue (I know, I’m one old pumpkin away from being on hoarders. Did you see that episode? The rotting pumpkin lady? GR-ROSS!). I fold it up nice and neat and slip it in a little bag, that way I’ve got bags and tissue at the ready. You’ll NEVER see me pay $3.99 for a gift bag! I was recycling when recycling wasn’t cool.
So while I’m consolidating linens, making yet another pile of duvets and shams to give away, I turn around and here are my girls-
Ava had stopped momentarily from dumping build-a-bear workshop junk all over the floor to build a “trap” for the baby. She put her blanket over the top of the box and lured her in with hairbows. She’s a smart cookie alright, because it only took a second for Lyla to stop emptying q-tips out of the box and come check out the shiny objects.
And before you know it, they’re both in there having a blast, giggling, and mauling each other. It’s moments like these that I am so happy we have two kids.
It would have been just me and a box if it were my childhood, I love that they have fun playing together.
Even if 15 minutes later Ava coaxed the baby onto the rocking chair, started rocking it like a rollercoaster, and set the box underneath to catch her head first.
