- You're too lazy.
- It was your grandma's/aunt's/mom's/Mary Todd Lincoln's. And painting it would be a sin/make you an outcast at reunions/get your name and your children's names scratched off the family tree, etc.
- You've never found time in the last sixteen-and-a-half years to DUST it, let alone FIX it. (This is mine.)
- Insert excuse here_____.
It was about a bazillion years ago. Hubby and I were shopping at a trendy spot called Valley Junction, where antiques abound and anything cool can be had for the right price. Including a jar of buttons, but that's a story for another time.
|Another "before" shot of our little curvy dresser. Yes. That IS a lot of dust.|
"How much?" Hubby asked because I'm an introvert.
"$130," said one of the two guys who followed us around the store, spouting off the merits of each item as we passed it.
"Will you take $5?" I asked.
Okay, I didn't really, but I should have because $130 was just a wee bit out of our price range back then. In fact, it still is.
I'm going to give you the abridged version here since you can probably guess the ending. We bought it. We took it home. I put lamps on it and gushed over it and NEVER dusted it again.
Fast forward fifteen years, several dogs and about six houses later. The little wooden dresser is sitting in our upstairs hall because I don't know where else I can fit it. It doesn't actually work as a dresser for any of us because with two teenage daughters, we have enough clothes to build a suspension bridge to the moon.
I suddenly have an epiphany.
"Hey!" I say to myself, "I am pretty handy with a paintbrush these days. I should make over that old dresser that we paid too much for all those years ago!"
And that is pretty much all there is to know. If you are wondering about the end of this story, have a look at the photos. I think it was a happy ending. And I promise to dust it this time. Seriously.