I'm not sure there's anything more futile than spending significant chunks of time, energy and money on organizing a room that is guaranteed to get thoroughly trashed again in a matter of hours*, but damn, it's satisfying.
*Minutes if they've had frosting.
Satisfying in the fleeting way that Snickers bars and McDonald's fries are satisfying, but still.
Jason was impressed with my preschooler art-project gallery, having been unaware that I'd gone out and bought special hangers for everything. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd been struck with the idea randomly at 11:30 pm and just grabbed the nearest box of thumbtacks.
Whatever. Thumbtacks were good enough for my New Kids on the Block posters once upon a time, I THINK they're good enough for a fleet of two-wheeled rescue vehicles that I Am Very Sure My Child Had Very Little To Do With.
(Though I think I hung at least one of these pictures of our house and the Jamaica house upside down, so perhaps some tape would have been a wiser choice. I get points for the airplane right? That you can make go back and forth? I thought of that all by myself. I should totes open a gallery. Or get a cookie.)
The monorail supports were repo'd, a victim of stalled neighborhood gentrification.
Plus a bunch of fucking hippies moved in, with shit like wind turbines and solar panels and potable water containers, but it turned out that all they were really growing on the "living roof" was pot.
"We shall rebuild!" pledges Thomas. "We have a helicopter and cranes and tank engines. Plus a will to succeed and plenty of short-length curved track and female-to-female connector bits."
"What we don't have," he added, "is opposable thumbs. That's really our biggest obstacle."
He continued: "Shit."
(Kind of not relatedly, it's WTF Tuesday at MamaPop Sparkle Motion. As in, WTF Were They Thinking, or, or WTF Is With Amy &The Train Set Thing, Seriously, I Don't Quite Get These Entries & Wonder If I Missed Something.)