Father’s Day. 2011. Our first son was 1, and it was our last Father’s Day in France.
I was determined to make it special.
We were living in Paris, and I had a dream of finding something unique. Something with history. Something that was small enough to bring back with us when we moved home to the US.
So I put Little Pax in the stroller and took the bus to a brocante (an antique street market) near the Arc de Triomphe. After wandering for a couple of hours (straight into Little Pax’s naptime, of course… poor thing…), I simply couldn’t get this beautiful trunk out of my mind. It. was. stunning.
Dating from the late 1800’s, it still had the original Victorian paper lining.
And the wood had been lovingly restored to a rich glow.
And the iron work gave it a romantic pirate-like flare.
But we didn’t own a car. And I didn’t have a carseat for Little Pax, so a taxi was out of the question (in addition to the fact that the trunk was rather over my planned budget, and a 20 euro taxi was only going to make that worse). But where there’s a will…
And now it is home with us, in Texas.
We keep pillows and blankets in it in our living room, and I smile each time I see it.
Each time it catches my eye, I remember our bus ride home. With the trunk. In the stroller. And Little Pax tied to my hip with the sheet that we kept in the stroller basket to use as a blanket at the park.
I love pieces with history. And my-story. You can read more about my favorite story-telling furniture in the dining room here and in the entryway here. Come back soon to see a full tour of the living room!
How about you? Any great stories residing in your home?