|Mads in her upstairs bedroom with the house.|
I spring. Don't even hesitate. I think maybe the furniture sealed the deal.
Anyhow, I get home and call Mads' dad and excitedly tell him the story and he says, "Are you watching the Tennessee game? What's the score?"
And then, "Uh, Dad, we're in the process of getting rid of about half of the toys Madeline has so she can walk in her bedroom." I'm momentarily crushed, but then it occurs to me: "I'll just keep it at my house and she can play with it here." These photos are Madeline's introduction to the house, which she immediately began infuse with her own decorative touches.
I think maybe the house was a hit. Sure as hell was with me. Wish I'd made it.