As much as people might think it’s cool to be married to a bartender– specially made drinks whenever I want them and the ability to say “hey, make me a handmade margarita instead of pouring the pre-mixed kind”– it’s even better to be married to one who’s handy around the house.
Although we pretty much spoiled Cooper with a bucket full ‘o fun stuff on Easter, it wasn’t quite enough.
The boy needed a sandbox. But not just any sandbox– mama had dreams about the neat little sand table she saw on Pinterest one day. The sand table that held a plastic tub with a lid that would keep all the neighborhood critters out. The sand table that the kid would have to stand at, not sit in, thus keeping his clothes a little bit cleaner.
So on Easter Sunday, while Cooper took a nap, daddy went out to his
garage shop and whipped up a sand table. And when I say “whipped up,” I mean it. In about fifteen minutes, we had a sand table.
Behold, the awesomeness: