This is our dining table:
Littered with stickers.
There are butterflies, trucks, diggers, and stars.
There are lumpy ones, and shiny ones, and even a few partial ones.
Lots and lots of stickers.
And I wouldn't have it any other way!
While the lumpiness does sometimes drive me nuts when trying to use my mouse,
and it doesn't exactly look 'pretty' in a house-proud sense of the word,
I still wouldn't change it.
My son put those stickers there.
And however inconvenient they may be, I love him.
I love having him in my life. I love his laughter, and his impish grins. I love watching him turn the couch squabs into trampolines or doors for his car. I love listening to him brrm cars all over the window seat. I love helping him make playdough roads, or snails, or whatever weird shape happens to form in my hands.
And a few stickers are a small price to pay.
He's not allowed to put them anywhere else (other than his sticker book, which is almost overflowing!). But the dining table is fairly well worn already, so a few stickers aren't going to hurt too much. Especially if he has his way and manages to peel them all off again (oh, that's right, that would be why there are some partial stickers on the table - sometimes stickers just don't want to be peeled!).
Stickers. Just a small reminder that a small person lives here and that I'm really rather glad he does!