Happy Birthday, Moeski Love

It's my youngest daughter's twelfth birthday today. Which seems impossible.

We had dinner at the Chinese buffet with my Dad and Mo was as happy as if she had good sense. Then when we got home, Em and I gave her the card I'd made and she opened the present my Dad and Mom went in on, a large-ish nightstand.



Since the divorce, and since before it, I think, the girls have shared a dresser that's in Em's room. Which is fine except it's full to the bursting point. And except that Mo is forbidden access to Sissy's room, except to get clothes. Which I'm sure makes Mo feel like a dog named Stay. 'Don't go in Sissy's room.' 'Go to time-out, you know you're not to come in here to play.' Then, 'Get some socks from the dresser in Sissy's room.'



The reason no dresser has been in her room for so long is she's already destroyed two dressers in her career as a high maintenance child. Hopefully she's not going for the hat trick. On the plus side, she's generally less destructive than she was a couple years ago. But less destructive isn't non-destructive, so I guess we'll see.



The reason a nightstand and not a dresser, Mo has a book/toy shelf that her Grandpa D made, and it's footprint is about dresser sized. There might be a way, but I couldn't see a good way to work a dresser into her room and keep the shelf, bed, etc., without blocking the air registers and whatnot. This was about the biggest thing that fit the niche, and it's fairly cavernous as nightstands go.