Our kitchen table is an office, a study carrell, a work bench, a science lab, a potting shed, a beauty parlor, a laundry basket, an art space, a meeting room, a confessional, a snack shack, a nursing station, a design center and can be easily converted into a dog house and spy fort. Depending on the hour, it might also appear to be a garbage can. Most recently it can bear witness to the creation of a dragon head out of PVC pipe and paper mache'. It has seen tea parties and dinner parties and birthday parties and ice cream tastings and cake disasters and game nights and book talks and cooking demonstrations and tense negotiations.
Daily (hourly), I grumble about the shuffling I do of all the stuff that is required of something that wears so many hats. Really? I think. I am moving a 4 foot dragon head so we can eat? I am vacuuming glitter so I can see my rug? I am picking up microscopic pieces of Legos so I can pay bills? There are people I know who have a place for everything and everything has it's place. Lucky them. Or maybe not. Life isn't as neat as all that. And really, I think, I wouldn't have it any other way if the way I have it is the way I have always wanted it in the first place.