The slippery slope to granny plastic covered furniture…
Before we had kids, I had this novel approach to parenting, specifically related to differentiating between kid and adult use of items in the house. Essentially, there would be no differentiation. No playroom that was allowed to stay messy, no grown up room that kids could only stare at with a 10 foot buffer between them and the edge of the doorway, no plastic cups or plastic place mats for kids while adults get glasses and fabric. None of that stuff. If we ate from fine china, so would the kids. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking the same thing that Cliff Huxtable said to Theo when Theo attempted to play Cliff’s heartstrings to gain his support in skipping college. Go ahead. Click on it. Watch it. That is Mr. Huxtable talking to me.
Oh, Mr. Huxtable…where WERE you when I needed to be put on the straight and narrow? He wasn’t here. He didn’t tell me. And I proceeded with my plan. You see, after H was born, R deployed. When he got back, we used all of the extra per-diem money to buy a dining room set. We were going to eat at a nice dining room table as a family every night, by golly, so off we went to get one. The table was gorgeous dark wood, expanded to seat at least 12 people comfortably, and it also had squishy chairs covered in cream fabric.
New Chair vs Old Chair. Good vs. Evil. Light vs. Dark. Singing vs. Screeching. What a difference new fabric makes!
Fast forward 6 years, and now we have a table that is gorgeous dark wood, expands to seat at least 12 people comfortably, and it also has squishy chairs covered in brown, greenish (that would be mint jelly), water stained fabric. Doesn’t that sound just beautiful? I know your tushy is begging to be invited over to dinner, just so that it can settle right into those chairs.
Yes, kids make messes. Yes, I knew this going into the whole brilliant idea of letting kids be treated to the same quality of household goods as adults. It was dumb. No, I was dumb. The chairs are gross. Something must be done. So, a few weeks ago I dropped H off at gymnastics and went to the fabric store.
Here it is, in all of it's "no child has ever come near me, and never will" glory.
After poking through, pulling out, and staring at disappointing fabric sample after another, I found a small piece of heaven. Just a tiny glimpse of what fabulousness looks like. I bought the rest of what the store had in stock, brought it home, and now I have a newly recovered dining room chair. Go ahead. Take a look. Do you think a little kid’s rear is going to be allowed near that chair? Oh heck no! They will be lucky to look at it.
I had the exact same plan. EXCEPT, before Lillyan started eating in one of those squishy chairs covered in cream fabric, I went to the fabric store and bought some of that granny clear plastic, took the seat off, and covered just her chair in the plastic. Now Emilia chair is covered too, and they’d better not sit in any other chairs. Works for us! (And, Lord willing, I can take the plastic off some day!)