187 Easy Steps to Creating Your Own Side Table

Step #1: Decide you need a side table for your baby's room. Determine you must immediately go out and purchase said side table.

Step #2: Go shopping with husband for 5 hours at local flea markets to try to find the "perfect table" in admist the one-armed dolls, coonskin hats, and Joe Camel coffee cup memorabilia.

Step #3: Break for lunch even though it's only 10:30am. Eat one (1) Wendy's Spicy Chicken Sandwich.

Step #4: Recognize that you are never, ever going to find "the perfect side table" that you have envisioned in your mind. It may only exist in a parallel universe.

Step #5: Get home and realize that the table you stuck in the baby's room to get out of the way is actually the perfect size/shape of what you just spent half you day looking for in sweaty, cigarrette stained, hoarder-like flea markets.

Step #5 1/2: Ponder why they would name a type of market after a small, agile, and wingless insect famous for feeding on the skin and blood of animal hosts. Why not a Butterfly Market? Or perhaps an Earwig Market?

Doesn't it just scream "used furniture and other miscellanous goods"?

Step #6: Take the requisite "before" picture of your table.

Step #7: Dismantle table, possibly losing three to eleven critical pieces of hardware in the process (exact number of pieces can be left to discretion).

Step #8: Sand pieces to prepare for painting/staining. Preferrably start sanding outside at noon in the middle of July while 19 weeks pregnant.

Step #9: Quit after two pieces and leave the rest for your husband. Make mental note that sanding is just as sucky and not-fun as it looks like it would be.

Step #10: Get bored because sanding is now taking your husband a really long time since he's doing it alone. Bring out dog and pose "dog sanding" pictures to entertain yourself.



Step #11: Take too many "dog sanding" pictures and totally lose dog's interest. Lament the fact that your limited choices for entertainment is even boring the dog.

Step #12: Go inside and eat left over potatoes from last night's dinner.

Step #13: Now that you've refueled, gain new found interest in the dog sanding pictures, and decide that they would be funnier and more exciting if the dog was standing up! And sanding! Because, seriously, if a dog was going to sand a board he'd do it standing up! Convince your husband to stop working and help you place the dog's feet on the sandpaper to give it that 'photojournalistic' vibe you're aiming for.

Step #14: Realize you wasted 15 minutes of project time torturing the dog. (Worth it, though. Seriously worth it.)

Step #15: Beginning staining process. Pregnant partner should go inside at this point so her friends don't give her insanse amounts of grief. (Step #15 Option B: Help with staining process and fib to your friends and don't post about it on the blog that you invited them to read. Option B does come with major risk of backfire. Employ Option B at your own risk.)

Step #16: Continuing staining more pieces. Realize this table has a shit-ton of pieces when taken apart.

Step #17: Get irritated that your pregnant wife (who continues to eat left over potatoes inside the doorway) insists on taking pictures of you working on every friggin' piece of this damn table.

Step #18: Turn around so she can't take any more pictures of table process.
Step #19: Because the dog won't play with you anymore and you're bored again, start taking more pictures anyway just to piss him off.

Step #20: Bring entire operation inside the doorway due to sudden flood advisory.
Step #21: Pray over your table top pieces to ensure a smooth coat of paint.


Amen.



Step #22: Test the power of your prayers and begin painting.

Step #23: Let everything dry, piece it all back together, and throw it into Eggy's room. Realize you're too sick of the project at this point to take any more pictures of a stupid table.

Step #24: Argue about where the table looks best in the room. Eventually rearrange entire room at 10:30 at night four different times because the crib should be catty-corner slanted to the LEFT NOT THE RIGHT YOU BIG DUMB HEAD STUPID FACE!

Step #25: Recognize this table is becoming a catalyst for marriage counseling. Go to bed before having to claim "table dispute" on divorce papers.

Step #26: Wake up rested and happy. Take "after" picture of table.

Step #27: Realize that the dog is being vindictive for the "sanding incident" yesterday, and is sticking her fat head into every shot you try to take of the new table. Attempt to shove her away, which drives her to DIY end-table-induced psychosis:

Step #28: Lock dog out of baby's room. Take another picture.

Step #29: Buy random baby basket at Hobby Lobby and place on bottom shelf.
Step #30: Promise each other that from here on out all baby things are to be bought pre-made.