I figure the house is equally as much bubba’s as it is ours and that we need to allow for dedicated space for her to play and keep toys in the areas where we spend the most time, and not just in her room.
Ya. Good thinking mum.
It’s gotten slightly out of hand. We currently have no less than three (that’s THREE folks) cubby houses in the living room.
The actual on-purpose cubby. Never mind the blue masking tape. She has a thing for masking tape and tapes everything. EVERYTHING.
The accidental “cubby” (cardboard box) that she claimed from a furniture delivery (dining chairs). (We’re nothing but class and good taste over here).
And the day the new sofa arrived she commandeered me to move the Kivik boxes (still unpacked) in to a formation she declared a cubby, moved her pillows inside the formation and plonked herself down.
Now that the sofa is unpacked, the largest of the boxes is a cubby house (I managed to squirrel away the smaller box for recycling).
Seriously. Who lives like this?!
Ni bor på det viset raring!
Tydligt det. (suck)
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