I have a secret. I cannot resist a chest. No, not that kind of chest. But a beautiful antique chest. A chest perfect for hiding anything you want inside, even another chest. Of course it is kind of a hard secret to keep in a small house like our own. My husband humors me and deals with my stacks upon stacks of wooden obsessions. Lately, though, it has gone a little too far.

I try to always picture where something will go in my house before I make a purchase. If I can’t figure it out, I walk away. If I later come up with a brilliant solution, I will purchase it. If not, someone else will definitely make it a happy home.

This has always worked for me.

Until now.

On a recent trip to the flea market, I spotted this guy.

Look at that chipped creamy green paint. Check out that beautiful faded red cross symbol. He can stand vertically (like a dresser) or horizontally ( like, well, a chest).

Isn’t he lovely? I asked how much the chest was and the sweet guy said, “$90.”

How could I resist? Before my husband knew what had happened, he was carrying this heavy beauty through the busy market. I was ecstatic! What a steal! Only, I had a problem. Where was I going to put this new acquisition? I was quiet all the way home, trying to think of the right solution.

But, we arrived home, and I still had no answer. So, my husband unceremoniously dumped my latest baby in our garage. He has been languishing there for months now. Every time I get out of my car in the garage, I see him. And he breaks my heart. And I am wracked with guilt.

So, I need to figure out where I can put him.

Do you like him here?

Do you like him there?

Do you like him anywhere?
Do you like my green crossed friend?
Tell me, tell me,
Where shall he end?