Play room, hell yeah!

So, I recently read an article that outlined what those without children hate about those of us with children. One of those things was having to see kids toys and paraphernalia in the houses of those pesky friends who have bred.

Now, I too must admit that I used to say smugly to mr twice giggle thrice that we would never allow our house to become overrun with toys when we became parents. He would smugly agree and we would then happily live in our as yet childless delusion that this was in fact possible.

Fast forward a few years and I find myself falling over things on a regular basis, and stomping on beloved crayons that were in the shape of a much loved cat or monkey or hippo AND had a name, and don't I just feel rather guilty that I have smashed my child's beloved crayon pet into 1500 pieces?!

Something had to give.

Cue a midweek visit to the toxic kingdom of ikea, a few expedit cubemythingies and some castor wheels and we have a pretty awesome playroom. May it save the lives of many more crayon pets.

Oh, and to those childless beings that hate having to see children's toys and such, the playroom is right there when you step in through our front door. If it offends you, feel free to step right on back out!