it goes without saying that the first meal at the new table will be eggs

Here I am again to talk about my kitchen.  I apologize in advance if you're as sorry about reading kitchen posts as I am writing them.  When we started the kitchen renovation it was Labor Day, and we said we'd probably be finished by Thanksgiving, but FOR SURE by Christmas.

Well those same fools are now well past Easter and just hoping things wrap up by Memorial Day.  

Matt and I were discussing the ideal vs the actual timeline the other day, and he said, "Well, there were just a few aspects that I didn't expect."

"Like what?" I asked.

"For starters, I didn't expect Christmas to come so quickly."

Anyway, this weekend we put up the back splash, and with the exception of a few tiny finishing touches, we are DONE.  We went shopping for a kitchen table the other weekend and I had a picture in my mind of exactly what I wanted - farmhouse style, dark wood top, white or cream legs, and a bench on one side.

Here was Matt's one and only requirement: he didn't want it to be as narrow as our last table, which could get crowded if people were eating on both sides and we had serving dishes in the middle.  He came just short of bringing one of our dinner plates with us to the store to make sure any prospective table was an acceptable size.

What he did bring with him was his own personal tape measure which he used upwards of one hundred times.  He measured furniture I wasn't even remotely interested in and had a wonderful time.

It reminded me of the time my parents went shopping for a toaster, and my dad traced a slice of bread on a piece of paper to bring along to the store so he could make sure the entire piece of bread fit inside the toaster when you pushed the button down.  

Matt and I looked at a few chain furniture stores first, but we didn't see anything, so we decided to go to a local store called Gamburg's.  Gamburg's sells some fancy pieces and as we walked around I felt a little bit like I wasn't quite adult enough to be there, but no one kicked us out so we shopped on.

We wandered around the first floor of the store and saw a few kitchen sets we liked, but as we got to the stop of the stairs on the second floor, there it was.  The table of my actual dreams.

I practically kissed it.

I told Matt "Well, there it is.  The one I've dreamed of," and he said, "Wait, you've actually dreamed about a table?" he asked.

Sure have pal,  it was only of the only things that got me through the weeks when our kitchen looked like this and I was clinging to any shred of hope I could that we could actually eat a meal in there again someday.

The next morning I stopped by my mom and dad's to drop off a bag of frozen potatoes (long story) and my dad was home. He said, "Mom told me you got the kitchen table of your dreams.  That's great.  But if I ever have an actual dream about a kitchen table, I'll know things are bad."

So it seems like dreaming about furniture may be a girl thing.

When I got home Matt was just coming home from a trip to Lowe's.  He had a bag with a few tools and a kitchen mat.

It was, brace yourselves, a giant chicken.

I didn't say anything, but glanced around the kitchen and saw the following items:

Matt stood in front of the rug for a minute, just looking at it.  And then he said, "I don't know.  I  mean, I like it, but do you think we are becoming those weird chicken people?"

Sorry to say Matt, but I think it's too late in the game to worry about that.

I think it's eggcellent.