You know those days when you seem to spend all your time picking up the cats’ stinky toys from the carpet, the daughter’s myriad accessories from every single freaking flat surface in the entire house and the Husband has left a trail of towels, paperwork and back copies of the Economist in his wake? And you’re wishing that just occasionally your house looked just a teensy bit more like the the homes in the interiors mags?
Fortunately for my peace of mind, and thanks to the extremely amusing Catalog Living, we now know EXACTLY what those people who live in catalogs or even catalogues are REALLY thinking.
Elaine rushed to the dining room in a panic but was relieved to see that she misunderstood what Gary meant by “the number two on the table.”
After years of using a computer, Gary was admittedly out of practice when it came to dramatically ripping paper out of the typewriter and tossing it in the trash.
Gary thought his rough day was going to get the best of him until Elaine set down a tray holding what every man dreams of coming home to: an ice cold gin and tonic and a bound together stack of coverless paperbacks