William Morris said ‘Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful’.
I chant this every time I enter Poundland.
But still the beautiful, useful crap keeps piling up and every time I move from the sink to the fridge I have to wade through 4 inches of plastic food.
We have a plan to entice our daughter into playing in her bedroom. Apparently the answer is simple: A rug.
People joke about women buying candles and cushions but no one ever mentions men and their obsession with rugs and offensively patterned duvet covers.
Like The Dude in The Big Lebowski Mr Eeh Bah is convinced rugs have a mystical power for making places look homely. According to my fella our lives will be shitting awesome once we have a rug in my daughter’s bedroom. In years to come we will look back on our lives and see a clear divide between the life we had before rug and the amazing time we had after the rug.
So I am sitting at home when an email pings in from the man I love, the father of my two perfect children, the man of the house. In it there is a link to some rugs.
They are fucking horrible.
One of them features a unicorn under a rainbow.
I shit you not.
Mr Eeh Bah was right the rug has become a defining moment in my life. It is the catalyst for me realising the man I love has NO TASTE WHATSOEVER.
I phone him and gently point out the rugs have given me a terrible headache and I may need trauma counselling.
‘But she’ll love them.’ He replies.
‘Of course she will. She’s three.’ I retort. If Hello Kitty produced pink sparkly cat poo she would love that too.
This is exactly why child labour is illegal. So children don’t have available funds to buy acid flashback inducing unicorn rugs or sparkly Japanese cat turds.
We are facing the ultimate parenting dilemma. How much choice do you give your children?
I let my daughter choose her own clothes. This has been a mistake, I was hoping for the artfully thrown together look. I imagined wellies, fairy wings and a Stone Roses t-shirt.*
Instead she usually chooses to wear a dress 3 years too big for her with two skirts underneath and a t-shirt and vest on top. She looks like she is about to try win a Guinness World Record for most dirty clothes on a 3 year old.
The problem with offering choice is that children don’t make your choices. Which is fine in some cases but not in others.
Personally I don’t think a three year old should be allowed to choose soft furnishings.
I’m with William Morris on this one.
The Dude abides.
*To be fair we don’t actually own any fairy wings or a Stone Roses t-shirt so it would have been a bit of a push for her.