I have this teeny tiny dilemma.
Last week, I noticed that one of my favorite, understated wreaths that hangs in my living room ( i have two identical ones) was missing.
I wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been gone, but something about the room had been off for days and I thought I was losing my freakin mind. My husband, rather quickly might I add, agreed with this sentiment and proved to be less than compassionate when the asymmetry of the room kept giving me hives. My OCD was in full swing, the uneven decor causing my seratonin levels to plummet, and just as I was getting ready to douse everything in gasoline and set the room on fire, my mom came by and handed me this:
Apparently, she had snuck in when I was away and kidnapped the damn thing so that she could deface it with a collection of plastic spring flowers circa the 1980’s.
So that’s my dilemma.
Because it is still hanging up in my living room; Ugly. As. Sin. My wall is screaming for mercy, I keep waking up with night sweats, and she has
threatened informed me that as soon as her glue gun recovers she will be “decorating” the other one as well.
What the hell do I do? I don’t want to hurt her feelings, and I’m no Martha Stewart myself, but even your great-aunt Pearl would agree that this thing is just FUGLY.
And yes. I really did temporarily unsubscribe my mom, just so she wouldn’t get this post emailed to her.
Because I’ve seen what she can do with a glue gun.
And I’m so scared.