I bought an old desk at a thrift store for First Born Prince last spring, dragged it home and couldn't wait to show him what I found. I had visions of us laughing and flicking paint at each other, bonding, learning lessons about recycling and restoration. He took one look at it and told me he didn’t like it. He is turning out to be just like his father who once asked me after I spent an entire summer shopping at flea markets, decorating our first apartment, “What’s the difference between shabby chic and just plain shabby?”
“I’ll take it!” Charming Baby was very excited by the idea. He never passes up a discarded treasure or a project. He is turning out to be just like me.
Months passed and Charming Baby kept asking me when he could have his desk. We bought the paint, new hardware and fresh sandpaper. Summer ended, school started and we got back into sports and music lessons and all sorts of weekend commitments and eventually he grew tired of waiting for me.
A few weeks ago I found him in the garage, sitting at his desk, using an upside down recycling bin as his chair, working furiously on a book he was making. It was a rainy night, getting late, and he was out there humming to himself. He had set up an entire workspace, complete with paper, stapler, markers and colored pencils.
“Sam, why don’t you come in and work at the kitchen table where it’s warm and there is better light?”
“Mom, I love my desk! I don’t care if I have to sit out here to use it. Please let me stay.”
The very next sunny day we had, I whipped up an early dinner, poured a hefty glass of wine and we spent the entire afternoon and evening in the garage.
I knew Charming Baby was patient and sweet and good with a paint brush, but this time around I found out he is also great with a screwdriver and is clearly capable of taking initiative when his boss is lagging.
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