“But I don’t have anywhere else to put it.”
That’s been my excuse for years.
As a child, I loved small spaces. I would spend hours in the two-foot space behind my dad’s recliner, pretending it was my house. I used blankets and pillows to create a home in my not-a-walk-in closet.
I’ve known for a very long time that the cabinet in the gameroom would make a perfect little play spot for someone who likes small spaces of her own.
But . . . it was very full of stuff. And the thought of moving all of that stuff overwhelmed me. Especially since empty spaces for stuff-relocation were a rarity.
About a week ago, I tackled that cabinet and the cabinet above. I ruthlessly purged, getting rid of most of what was in there.
So last week, when a certain someone’s brother discovered her latest hiding spot in the linen closet and proved that there wasn’t enough room for the both of them, I was able to solve the problem by moving the very small amount of stuff into another practically-empty cabinet.
And that . . . took all of about three minutes.