Wobbly because till things get set right, it’s always wobbly and might even topple over. Like the unending towers my kid builds.
I’ve usually found that one can accurately predict that a small person (not being politically correct about the midgets and others of their ilk) lives in a particular house. It’s not always the tiny shoes strewn around, or the trike outside the door.
A house can be beautifully maintained without ever giving away the fact that someone with little grubby hands lives there. What usually gives is away, what even the most hawk-eyed moms eventually slip up and miss are the things kids hide underneath the couch cushions.
While I was growing up one of my neighbors had a kid whose couch would inevitably yield G.I Joe action figures. I’ve sat on Sgt. Slaughter and Cobra Commander more time than I would like to remember. And now that I have a grubby-handed kid of my own, the kind of things that end up under my cushions are worthy of a special mention.
Here are some of the treasures unearthed so far:
- a bendy Mr.Bean action figure’s tiny litte hand. That was *quite creepy* but not as creepy as the head which was propped up on a bottle on water on the dinning table.
- a clothes pin (don’t ask me why-the balcony’s on the other side of the house)
- one of my elusive ear buds.
- beads from a necklace that I didn’t even know was broken.
- bobby pins
- a handkerchief
- indeterminable dust of something I don’t want to even consider.
- a chewed on marker cap
- and as always, a dinosaur figurine.
Surprisingly (and happily), bugs are always missing!
I don’t feel like Howard Carter mind you, but there’s a feeling of awe from time to time once the cushions come off! If we ever get a bigger home, am sure I’ll find something that’ll rival Mr.Carter as well!
Happy weekending folks…