This morning, I awoke to pink cabinet pulls in my bathroom.
The same way I have for more than five years now.
Honestly, I didn’t think much about them, or about how much I didn’t like them, until I drove up to the building supply store and saw the ones I’ve been longing for . . . for five years.
They were in an outdoor display, and were marked 50% off. The ones I liked were also the cheapest ones. (What does that say about me?)
We were there to get new bed slats and a sheet of plywood to repair a certain eight-year-old’s once-jumped-upon bed. Or once-too-often-jumped-upon bed.
I looked at them, handled them, and probably sighed. I remarked about the great price, and shared how I’ve been wanting some just like them for a very long time.
But I didn’t buy them.
After we had the wood cut, and were ready to head home, my purposeful and logical 8yo said we needed to head back into the store and buy them.
And I’m so thankful. I knew he was right because they are a detail. A detail that I would normally let go for no good reason. Like so many other times when I have found something I needed and wanted for a very good price, but didn’t act upon the opportunity. Putting it off until a better time that I knew in my heart would never actually come.
And here they are. So much more modern. So much less pink.
And my very favorite part? The manly-man eight-year-old hands that worked hard to help me install them. What a perfect project for a future handyman.
I love that boy.