I’m trying not to make this all DIY all the time, but seriously, cancer and social awkwardness needs to be moved down a bit. It’s depressing.
I’ve been thrifting and hitting up flea markets this summer. I’ve always had a fondness for vintage stuff. And not just of the home decorating variety. Toys especially. Vintage “stickas” (remember these bad boys? I spent hundreds on that one page alone), Rainbow Brite, Strawberry Shortcake, all the stuff I had as a kid, and even boys toys. I managed to find the first season of He-Man on DVD earlier this year, and both of the kids LOVE it. LG runs around the house with a light saber in her hand screaming “I HAVE THE POWERRRRRR!” And if that isn’t seriously cool, I don’t know what is.
We were “junking” as I call it, on Monday, and LG came across a tiny rocking chair. She sat in it and one of the vendors said “it was made for her.” I really didn’t want to buy it. We have enough crap in the house.
“I was going to sell it for $35,” said the man, “but I’ll give it to you for $20. It’s been in my neighbor’s family for years.”
I stood there for a moment, eyeing it. He probably thought I was trying to haggle (and maybe silently I was), but I was really hoping she would just grow tired of it and move on. She looked up at him and batted her eyes and smiled.
“Man, this is cruel.” He said, “bringing your cute kids here to do your dirty work! I’ll tell you what, you can have it for $15. Nice trick.”
As we were walking away with the rocking chair in hand, my daughter said “Mama, I want to paint it pink AND purple.
More unintended hours of sanding later, we have this, at the Diva’s request:
She picked out the colors all on her own. Benjamin Moore’s “Spring Azalea,” and “Crocus Petal Purple,” respectively. The stenciling was an afterthought. I’m not really great at stenciling, but she’s happy, and really, that’s all that matters.