Not Just a Social Climber

When Jason and I moved to Dallas almost seven years ago, we didn't have much in the way of furniture. In fact, everything we had fit in the back of a very small U-haul. A bed, a couch, an entertainment center and a dresser were about all we had.

Shortly after moving, we bought our first house and began the task of furnishing it. Now, some people like to shop for furniture. Me? Not so much. I would rather shop for shoes, but since footwear doesn't make for very comfortable seating, we were forced to drag ourselves to every furniture store in the metroplex looking for the perfect coffee table, bookshelf or side chair.

One of the very first purchases that we made were barstools. I know. Hardly comfortable seating. But I had a kitchen that demanded barstools and it just wouldn't look right unless there were barstools and I found the perfect ones and I neeeeeeded them. I was very proud of my barstools.

We've used them in every house we've had and I still love them (realizing as I'm typing that it's a little weird to love barstools this much). But now, look at the state my barstools are in.

Stacked in a corner. Rendered useless. Unsure of when they will return to their rightful place at the counter.

The reason for their demise?

You saw that one coming, didn't you?

It seems my youngest has an affinity for climbing. First it was the coffee table and kitchen chairs. Harmless stuff. Then she moved on to the table in Claire's room and the day bead. OK, slightly more hazardous, but certainly not dangerous. Then the other day, I came into the kitchen to find her perched on the counter, helping herself to a banana from the fruit bowl.

Not being a big fan of emergency rooms, I decided to take the barstools away and thus lessen my chances of having to take my toddler in for stitches.

Now if I could just figure out a way to remove my bathroom vanity, we'd be all set.