Since I've had a kid, our tiny world has suddenly become a treacherous place. Whereas I used to see only beauty in my 60s walnut Lane end tables, now I see very sharp corners for baby's head to fall on. Brian, my super awesome golden deer, has needle like hooves destined to impale him in the chest. And of course my tall vintage lamps look ready to rain down sharp shards of glass knives into little Ike's eyeballs. Not that I worry much. Or watch horror movies. Still, I've had way too much time to think about this, so I've decided what I should do is cover everything in padding. Everything.
Yeah, like that. Jurgen Bey is my new hero, because did I mention that I have a spiky snake plant that is sure to spear my precious dude? Obviously I should cover it in soft felt, right?
I also have this killer ornate gold headboard. As in literally killer. Maybe I should replace it with this witty stuffed gold fabric rendition by Alessandra Baldereschi. I plan to lose the cacti, though.
Baldereschi also has dinner time covered with this quilted placemat. Do you think it would be possible to eat with fabric cutlery, as well? To hell with sanitary conditions.
Hopefully he will never be tall enough to reach a doorknob (I plan on raising an elf, and it might happen, because I am not a tall person. And I have pointy ears), but if he ever does get that big, I'm padding my doors, post haste. On the left is a groovy vinyl door via flickr user sgrah, and on the right, a door at the Kenmore Arms.
Kiki van Eijk obviously has small children -- or perhaps even some cats she reallly cares about -- because the lady covers everything in a layer of softness. To wit, check out this rad padded chest of drawers.
She gets major bonus points for making it in black and gold.
This padded dressing table will surely keep baby safe while Mommie Dearest applies her lipstick. Don't worry -- there will only be padded hangers allowed. NO WIRE HANGERS!
Look, Kiki is so concerned with our safety that she ever makes a "soft" teapot. Sadly, it's actually made of ceramic and the softness is but an illusion, designed to induce false feelings of comfort. Damn you, Kiki, I thought you had my back!
Just kidding, Kiki. I know it's a tough job protecting the soft, fleshy parts of of tiny, vulnerable humans. That's why I think I just need to go full throttle, comme ca:
I already feel like I'm living in a mental institution anyway, so this padded cell room I blogged about here might just be the best solution to the problem. Obviously I would have to lock the door to the bathroom, since water and hard floors spell Danger. But Ike's already in diapers and I'm sure he would never know the difference if we kept him in them a little longer, right? I figure that maybe by the time he turns 18 he'll be able to leave the cell room and venture out into the world.
As long as he's wearing his bubble.