Karen Quinn's Blog
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My beautiful duvet cover 

Okay, I know I'm supposed to be editing novel number two, but I'm on a break. Plus it's Sunday and any work I get done is gravy anyway. Mark and I are about to go shopping for one of those humungous feng shui mirrors to go in our living room and a new couch to replace the one the kids have ruined. I don't have many really expensive things in this house. All the artwork is my own - nothing fancy. But we did recently buy a very extravagent duvet cover from ABC Carpet, the coolest and most expensive home-furnishing store in the city. We splurged and bought this cream colored, soft as a baby's bottom, cotton embroidered cover for $800 - $900, alot of do-re-mi for us. I justified it by saying that we spend so much time in bed that we should really love our boudoir and look forward to spending time there. With such a fancy duvet cover, how could we not quiver with anticipation over the hours spent lounging in bed. Anyway, I'm pulling the covers down the other day, and under one of my throw pillows I find a huge, blue ink stain. It was as if one of the kids just put an open fountain pen on the duvet cover and let it bleed until it made a four inch round stain. But to make it worse, said kid tried to cover up his or her crime by painting white-out over the stain - not cream colored white-out that IS available at Staples and would have at least matched the duvet cover, but the brightest white money can buy. So now, we have a thick, hard, white-out stain mixed with blue ink on my very expensive, prized duvet cover. I'm sick about it. Sick, I tell you. But then I think about how much everyone lost in Hurricane Katrina and I realize how spoiled and materialistic I must be to care about a stupid duvet cover. I'm lucky to have my home. Once you have kids, a parent should know better than to buy anything they care about getting ruined or broken because chances are, if you care about it, it WILL be destroyed. I don't know who committed the crime but I issued a restraining order and now all children are restricted from coming within ten feet of my bed.

Meanwhile, Schuyler is going to teen night at a nightclub tonight. Apparently this is very big with the teens ages 13 - 18 these days. Tickets are $30, no alcohol is served, kids go through metal detectors and are supposedly supervised. I hated the idea of saying "yes" to this, but I figured it was better to have her tell me where she's going and for us to work out reasonable ground rules than to have her lie and sneak into one of these things because I'm being overly protective. We'll see how it goes. I told her she has to keep a cell phone on her person at every minute so I can reach her. Of course, I also gave her the lecture about not putting your drink down or a boy will spike it and then take advantage. These are hard times in the parenting department at the Quinn house. When I was a kid, I would have hated a dance at a nightclub. Of course, I wore glasses, braces and a headgear, none of which makes you the belle of any ball. Schuyler is beautiful and social and this is her element, unfortunately for me.

Well, time to go. Furniture stores await us.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

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