It might be all-bathroom-all-the-time around the Little House right now, but we don’t want to subject you guys to that! We’ll have a few posts now and then that are completely unrelated to the crazy reno going on. We hope you enjoy them!
If there’s one piece of furniture I remember most growing up, it would be a little table and two chairs given to my sister and I by our paternal grandparents. I don’t remember getting the table; we just always had it. It was brown wood and was home to more tea parties, Play-Doh creations, Easy Bake disasters, and pretend restaurants than you can shake a stick at (not sure why you’d want to shake a stick at my childhood memories, though…).
As we grew up, the table passed down to the scores of younger cousins (yes, scores) that were always visiting and playing in our forgotten playhouse in the basement. The table was covered in doodles in marker and crayon, vestiges of artwork that couldn’t be contained on a single sheet of construction paper. The chairs were as coveted a seat as any first class recliner on a long-haul flight and squabbles to claim one resulted in many a time out being given.
Eventually, even the scores of cousins outgrew the little table and chairs and they were left to sit alone in our basement and wait for the next group of kids to come along. Instead of kids, the next thing to come along was a flood. After a torrential rain, our childhood home was left with several feet of water in the basement that didn’t recede for days. When the water finally drained, the little table was a broken down wreck of itself and was tossed to the side to be taken to the dump.
That’s where my sister found it. That’s where she rescued it and took it to her grandfather-in-law to be saved. They replaced the parts that couldn’t be repaired and restored it to even more than it’s former glory. A coat of white paint and a chalkboard top have given this little table a new lease on life with a new kid, our niece, Emma, to doodle and have tea parties and to run imaginary five-star restaurants.
My sister even wrote a sweet note to my niece on the bottom of the table explaining its history.
It’s a little hard to read, so here’s what it says:
Sweet Emma Sue,
This table was Mommy and Aunt Jessie’s (EDIT: that’s me!)back when we were just little girls; our Mamaw, your great-Mamaw, Virginia McKinley, gave it to us. It was probably the single most used piece of furniture we had. In 2008 there was a bad flood and Mamaw and Papaw’s basement filled with water and the table got wet and destroyed. When you were 2 years old, mommy saw it in pieces at their house and saved it. I took the pieces all to Daddy’s grandpa, your great-grandpa Ike Wasson, and he managed to restore and repair all the wood and put the table back together and even added the wood buttons. We all hope you have so much fun with it, and may it always remind you of who you are and the one who have loved you along the way!
I love you more than words can say, Love, Mommy
PS. Mommy painted the top with chalkboard paint and the sides white after Grandpa restored it.
Seriously, I tear up every time I read that. I think I need a moment.
What was your most memorable piece of furniture growing up? Have you passed any of your old things on to your kids/nieces/nephews? Does anyone else want to play with Play-Doh now?