My heart races and my eyes dart back and forth like my one-year-old is trying to escape (why in the hell was I so excited about him walking?!?). Suddenly, I laser focus on something shiny...silver. Running through the aisle, I try to look flippant and not like I have identified my latest prey. I pat down my hair, smooth over my shirt that is covered in drool and the offshoots of my sons sippy cup. Calm yourself, Harvie, you need to act like you've got your shit together and not run over that poor old man who is checking out stereo equipment next to you.
I pick it up, careful not to drop it because my hands are shaking.
A tray. I casually turn it over to see if there is a marking on the back. Can't alarm the sales people, they may start to get suspicious of the crazy lady holding the tray.
A Reed and Barton tray.
A Reed and Barton tray THAT IS ONLY THAT MUCH AND TODAY IS 30% OFF WHITE TICKETS.
A FREAKING REED AND BARTON TRAY FOR ABOUT WHAT I WOULD PAY TO FEED MYSELF AT MCDONALDS....(don't you judge me, I am growing girl).
I wonder if I can fit this into my purse and sneak it into the house without my husband noticing.
I am going to lose 15lbs and get a kaftan and morph myself into the fabulous hostess I know that is buried deep down inside of me. I am going to clean off the 3 week old Cheerios and piles of catalogs that have claimed squatters rights on my dining room table and serve my husband tea from this platter. How lovely this platter is going to look with all those pressed linens I have time to starch and fold and the tea cups that have been hand washed and dried lovingly by me. How happy and clean and showered my husband and I are going to look.
Or, this would look awesome on the broken table by the front door to throw all the mail that our mailman keeps wrongly delivering to our house.
Welcome to my blog and to my home, Chateau Shittay. This rental, located in the burbs of DC, has the most hideous carpet and renters paint that you have ever seen.
Sharing this lap 'o luxury with me is my understanding husband, Prozac popping pup and my adorable son.
Thanks for following along as I hit up the local thrift stores, estate sales and flea markets looking for treasures in our Nation's Capital to create a little bit of a home in the rental from hell.