I was lying in bed the other morning, long before the sun woke up. My wouldn’t rest enough to fall back to sleep, because I was thinking about a basket I have. Clearly this isn’t your ordinary basket. It’s big and made of sturdy metal, a piece picked up from the previous tenants of some place I’ve rented over the years. I’m sure it would need to be cleaned, and the junk it was already holding thrown away, but I was lying there wondering if it might solve the stuffed animal storage problem I seem to be experiencing.
That’s right, I lie in bed dreaming of stuffed animal storage.
But it’s a good dream to have. Kind of like world peace, and almost as unatainable. All of the stuffed animals stored in a neat, yet aesthetically pleasing, container out of the way. Instead of spilling forth and taking over every square inch of space.
The thing is, it’s boggling how we accumulated so many stuffed animals. I haven’t purchased a single one. The grandparents, however, can’t seem to pass a crane game without playing. And then they multiply. So I was trying to determine if this basket was big enough to house the many we’ve been given. Except even if it were, that might only solve one of my problems. Because then I wouldn’t know where to put the damn basket .
At which point I realized. There is only one truly good stuffed animal storage solution. And it involves packing them all in a trash bag, to donate to some other unwitting family.