Sorry people, not everyone is a fan of glitter. Sure the sparkly metallic bits look pretty, but just touching it guarantees weeks if not months of cleaning and vacuuming. My wife on the other hand, loves the stuff and somehow she managed to sneak it into our munchkin’s toy box. You can bet your ass I’m constantly finding glitter in my hair, my cleavage, the munchkin, you name it, it’s sparkly. I am waiting for glittery poop.

I didn’t always have a strong dislike for glitter. No no, the unfortunate event that left me scarred happened when the missus and I celebrated our first Christmas together. It started as a fun filled day putting up lights and decorations. All was fine and dandy in the household, until we got out the stockings. 

Everyone knows the only way to properly decorate a stocking is with glue and glitter. Fast forward a handful of empty tubes later and we were finished. I told her to shake off the excess glitter off of the balcony…sigh, maybe that was my karma for imposing glitter into the world. Of course my presence to join her was absolute perfect timing (sarcasm). Right when she shook her stocking, a gust of wind blew up, and all that glitter flew directly onto me. Yeah…not so good and fun anymore. I think a year after we moved I was still finding remnants of the incident.

Back to present day, we got a second change table to keep downstairs, and it was plain and boring. So we decided to artify it.. I’m sure you can guess what the wifey suggested..

I watched in horror as she dumped a tube of silver glitter into her palm and blew it onto the painted bits of the change table ..’it’ll look awesome’ she says. There was so much silver glitter piled on the floor, it looked like a unicorn shat out a mountain of chaos. If I were a tiny being I could ski down that shit!

It doesn’t end there, then came the golds and the oranges. I admit, at this stage I didn’t care. My feet were sticky with shiny shit and I had accepted my fate of spending the next 20 years finding bits and pieces of the little bastards. 

When finally our masterpiece was completed, I happily trotted to my Hoover to rid of the chaos. Tens seconds after I turned it on, it died. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I had been cleaning earlier and forgot to put the bloody thing back on the charger. Son of a bi*ch!!! $&@#!!!! Through my desperation I kept persevering, I pushed that on button time and time again, and time and time again it died. 

Fast forward to the next morning..the paint now settled, the glitter all dried, the stickers all stuck..I stared at the new change table.. It. Looked. Awesome!! I admit I doubted the wifey, but in the end she proved me wrong. 

My floor may shimmer up at me through every angle, but it was a fun family bonding experience. Totally worth it!

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