Nothing says Thanksgiving like major bathroom renovations, right?
The in-laws were ever so brave and kind and came all the way out from Michigan to help us. The Larkin men finished demolishing the bathroom and even got the new tub/shower combo in (and it’s beautiful!), and I served up a dinner made by Wegmans (because finishing book edits, coming up with new book ideas, and demo-ing a bathroom really don’t lend well to cooking a beautiful Thanksgiving feast and no one makes better mashed potatoes than Wegs does anyway). But the holiday weekend was not without its hiccups.
On Wednesday, they delivered our new kitchen island/table, and I discovered that the stools I bought were so tall that they were almost the same height as the counter.
On Friday morning, I locked us all out of the house.
And throughout my in-laws’ visit, pieces of our upstairs bathroom were continually falling into our downstairs (and only working) bathroom through the drop ceiling, making for quite a dramatic restroom experience.
But these things were minor blips in comparison to what happened on Friday night. . .
My three-year-old niece’s hair was in her face. My mother-in-law said, “Maybe Aunt Al has a pony-,” she pulled Niece’s hair into a ponytail to show me what she was talking about.
“Sure,” I said, remembering a box of old junk jewelry I’d found during my cleaning binge a few weeks ago, thinking it would be my best shot for a kid-sized hair clip. I ran downstairs, and heard little feet and kid giggles behind me. And I felt like the coolest aunt in the entire world, because my three-year old niece was so excited to look for a hair clip with me that she was literally jumping up and down.
I rifled through the box of old earrings and broken necklaces. Niece walked over, rested her hand on the chair next to me, and leaned against it, crossing one leg in front of the other like she was trying oh-so-hard to act casual. She looked up at me with her big blue-grey eyes and said, “So, where are the ponies?”
And I had to tell my favorite little girl in the whole wide world that we do not keep ponies in our basement.