Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Where I Talk About A Headboard.

Growing up, my parents' bedroom was the main attraction of our house.
Not that it was supposed to be.
But, as most children might, I remember tearing my parents' room apart.
Between teasing, hair pulling, cuddling, laughing, being shooed out by my dad and running downstairs to be saved from all types of nightmares, my parents' room was the best part of our house. Sometimes it was even sibling-free.
Growing up with six kids spanning eighteen years in age, that was a big deal.

Obviously, I am not the only way who felt this way.
Here is Anna, sporting a styling tee and reading the paper at the age of 2 or 3:

I found this picture today and laughed.
Anna has long pointed to this picture and said, "See! I'm smart!"
Then someone, usually Josh, would say, "The paper's upside down!"
To which Anna would reply, "Well, I was the cutest baby."
Let me tell you, those words cut Josh deep.

Usually, when I look at this picture, I just notice Anna.
But today, I noticed something else:

After a lot of years, my parents got a new headboard.
Since the first one was a wedding present from my Uncle Dave, my parents held onto it and gave it to the next-engaged-child-not-equipped-with-a-grown-up-household.
Enter Andrew and I last June.
While I was home for a few weeks last spring, my mother and I refashioned the headboard and matched other odds and end furniture to it.
Mr. C. and I love it.

I love it even more when I look back and think of all the memories centered in a room holding the same headboard that's in our first apartment.
And being the cheesy pregnant lady I am, I'm really excited for my little babies to sit on a bed affixed to my parents' former furniture while they read upside down newspapers on early mornings or late afternoons.