Old Man Weather is a jackass. I've whined about it here before, but rainy days and toddlers really do not mix. The wife and I were sequestered inside our shrinking apartment this past weekend in a veritable steel cage match with our two over-vocal children. I fleetingly escaped the screamy claustrophobia on Sunday for the purposes of procuring a new kitchen table. As fabulous as that sounds, I should point out that the table in question is about the size of your average nightstand (purchased at the entirely brilliant, East Village shop, Tiny Living, a store devoted entirely to furnishings for the cramped apartment). With Oliver now vying for the lone high chair in our home, we decided to set up a little kitchen eating area (at the expense of the wine rack, which will now reside in the living room) so that we could feed both kiddie-kids at the same time. This is mighty exciting stuff, eh? Welcome to the life of a parent times two. Out goes sleeping late, endless nights out on the town and "Must Be 21 to Enter" and in come sleepless nights, endless diaper changes and "Some Assembley Required." Whoohoo!
Much like my last cranium-cracking dabble in carpentry, the assembley of our new kitchen table proved to be a taxing task, although my lovely wife handled the lioness' share of the work, while I took little Oliver out for a stroll in the drizzle and Charlotte napped (I put the stools together). A few blistered palms, sore thumbs and splitting headaches later, we managed to adequately construct our table (see pic -- notice the obigatory pint of beer), and it has honestly been a huge benefit (so that two hundred bucks were not in vain). I actually had a cup of coffee on it this morning. Watch yer hairy back, Bob Villa!