Curious about the Curio
We have kids; therefore, we don’t have nice furniture. Two of the children’s beds are the Cosco industrial-grade white metal variety; the kind that may never break and no one will shed a tear if it does. Our dining table had been in the family for years before someone could find a relative desperate enough to take it. Our sofa and loveseat were nice when we bought them before the kids; now they’re heavily stained with foods both digested and undigested, and are well on the pathway to being dumped on a desperate relative.
Our one nice piece of furniture is a curio cabinet. It’s an 8-foot tall and 6-foot wide cabinet covered by glass that’s held in by a wood frame, and is meant to hold our pretty things and the dust that coats them. We bought it during our honeymoon right after the wedding, so it will always serve as a reminder of that one wonderful January night we spent in Omaha. Ellie wanted to stop at the infamous Nebraska Furniture Mart to search for a wedding present to ourselves. Money was tight back then* so I made a deal with her: She got her cabinet, I got lunch at Fuddruckers. I have no regrets.
The cabinet has been proudly displayed in our living room ever since. We’ve moved it into a new home twice without breaking any of the glass, which is more than I can say for the delivery service that originally brought it to our home.
It survived Abbie in good shape. In spite of Ellie’s perpetual fear that she would send a Weeble through its front, Abbie mostly ignored it for her first two years. She liked the light at the top and the way it made everything sparkly. She also found the mirror in the back suitable for admiring herself. Otherwise, it suffered damage no more serious than fingerprints as she steadied herself while running after the dog.
The boys have been the opposite. As soon as they learned to pull themselves to standing at an object, they discovered the joys of standing at the cabinet. Not only is it stable enough to support their weight, but it also makes some great noises when they bang on it. Hit the front panel, and the shakes with a hollow boom. Hit the side doors, and the entire 8-feet glass panel rattles like a saucepan lid hitting the floor after daddy neglects to use a potholder.
Initially, we could move them to a different part of the room when they hit the cabinet, and peace would return. They weren’t quick enough to crawl back to the cabinet before something else grabbed their attention. In the last month, though, their dexterity and memory improved to the point where they would immediately return to the cabinet after being moved. Not even Tasteeos could distract them, although Crispy Hexagons would slow them long enough to snack on them before putting their grubby mitts back on the glass.
When they started using foreign objects to experiment with different percussive sounds, we knew it was time to move the cabinet. Abbie’s discovery that banging on the cabinet was a great way to grab our attention hastened our decision. Our home is too small to move it to another room, but fortunately we have a spare house.
We already bought a house for after Ellie’s residency. We’re spending the next few months remodeling it as thoroughly as childcare limitations allow, so we’re not moving much into it yet to give us room to move. We made an exception with the cabinet, though. Ellie packed up its pretty things, called a friend, and we moved it last night, which was about the time the boys started eyeing the Weebles.
Now it’s up at our new house, away from banging hands. As a bonus, it frees up a little more floor space in our cramped house. That means more space to spread out their toys, and more virgin carpet to accept food stains.
* As opposed to today when we freely pour money into luxuries for the kids such as food and properly sized diapers.
Our one nice piece of furniture is a curio cabinet. It’s an 8-foot tall and 6-foot wide cabinet covered by glass that’s held in by a wood frame, and is meant to hold our pretty things and the dust that coats them. We bought it during our honeymoon right after the wedding, so it will always serve as a reminder of that one wonderful January night we spent in Omaha. Ellie wanted to stop at the infamous Nebraska Furniture Mart to search for a wedding present to ourselves. Money was tight back then* so I made a deal with her: She got her cabinet, I got lunch at Fuddruckers. I have no regrets.
The cabinet has been proudly displayed in our living room ever since. We’ve moved it into a new home twice without breaking any of the glass, which is more than I can say for the delivery service that originally brought it to our home.
It survived Abbie in good shape. In spite of Ellie’s perpetual fear that she would send a Weeble through its front, Abbie mostly ignored it for her first two years. She liked the light at the top and the way it made everything sparkly. She also found the mirror in the back suitable for admiring herself. Otherwise, it suffered damage no more serious than fingerprints as she steadied herself while running after the dog.
The boys have been the opposite. As soon as they learned to pull themselves to standing at an object, they discovered the joys of standing at the cabinet. Not only is it stable enough to support their weight, but it also makes some great noises when they bang on it. Hit the front panel, and the shakes with a hollow boom. Hit the side doors, and the entire 8-feet glass panel rattles like a saucepan lid hitting the floor after daddy neglects to use a potholder.
Initially, we could move them to a different part of the room when they hit the cabinet, and peace would return. They weren’t quick enough to crawl back to the cabinet before something else grabbed their attention. In the last month, though, their dexterity and memory improved to the point where they would immediately return to the cabinet after being moved. Not even Tasteeos could distract them, although Crispy Hexagons would slow them long enough to snack on them before putting their grubby mitts back on the glass.
When they started using foreign objects to experiment with different percussive sounds, we knew it was time to move the cabinet. Abbie’s discovery that banging on the cabinet was a great way to grab our attention hastened our decision. Our home is too small to move it to another room, but fortunately we have a spare house.
We already bought a house for after Ellie’s residency. We’re spending the next few months remodeling it as thoroughly as childcare limitations allow, so we’re not moving much into it yet to give us room to move. We made an exception with the cabinet, though. Ellie packed up its pretty things, called a friend, and we moved it last night, which was about the time the boys started eyeing the Weebles.
Now it’s up at our new house, away from banging hands. As a bonus, it frees up a little more floor space in our cramped house. That means more space to spread out their toys, and more virgin carpet to accept food stains.
* As opposed to today when we freely pour money into luxuries for the kids such as food and properly sized diapers.
posted by Matt at
11:28 PM
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