This stool wasn't always red, and it didn't always reside in my home. It has a history. For years it was stored away in my mother-in-law's garage. It was almost tossed during her last move, but I snatched it up--loving its petite shape and lines.
It used to have scaly white paint (yellowed with age) that dropped to the ground with the slightest touch. The dirty peeling paint relegated it to MY garage. I had hopes of refinishing it myself, but in reality I had no clue how to do it and no real desire to learn. So, when we remodeled a year and a half ago I had Telisa do the job.
I love this stool's present, but I also love its past.
|Hazel and Clementina|
|Here is the home in 2002. It was white when Clementina and her family lived there.|
Like every dutiful mother, Hazel supervised the bathing of her children. Here she would sit and scrub and scrub. This stool, in particular, is associated with scrubbing behind the ears. For some reason, this hygiene act was most important to Hazel. As they got older and did their own bathing, her children would always be confronted with the question of, "Did you scrub behind your ears?" If their response and inspection proved unsatisfactory, they would be marched back to the tub and receive a thorough behind-the-ears scouring. My mother-in-law is certain that she and her brother had the cleanest ears in town.
|Clementina and her brother, Marty|
I really do love this stool and not just for it's aesthetic. It's at least 80 years old with a slightly whimsical past. It has traveled far, and I'm so glad it's found a home with me.
(I wonder how well my kids clean behind their ears.)