It’s official. The bunkbeds are officially history. Last night a young couple came to the house and dismantled what was arguably the worst $200 I have ever spent in my life, bar none, and took it home with them. “You have given my daughters the best Christmas gift we could ever ask for,” the woman said to me. “Are you sure we can’t pay you for it?”
“No, I’m sure,” said I. “We just need it out of the house.”
And today, the transformation is nearing complete. The bunkbeds have been replaced by a decked-out full bed, replete with polka dots and animal prints (I know, it sounds horrid, but Sarah will love it) and a GIANT doll house. Tomorrow we go to storage and get out the gold framed Roccoco-style hallway mirror that belonged to Craig’s sister, and install it as a headboard. That way she can catch a glimpse of her full glory every time she plays dressup and bounces on the bed.
For Craig, I found a gadget that will turn all his vinyl into DVDs, so he can enjoy his LARGE collection of classic rock. I’m hoping it will put a smile in his heart, if not on his face.
My Christmas present is on his way, heading toward Philadelphia in his pick-up, dog by his side. We get to see Chris on Wednesday, but Dad will be here on Christmas Eve. I better get started with that cherry pie!
To be honest, this is not likely to be the happiest Christmas ever. As I said to Sarah today, I’m hoping it’s the last one, for a long long time, that we won’t get to spend together. The good news is that Christmas doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful. The darker the night, the brighter the star.
Merry Christmas to all . . . and to all a blessed night!