Welcome to McDonald's

At least, that is what Abi calls her little "store." She will greet you kindly from behind the counter and invite you to sit on her bed for a spell while she makes you french fries and gets you a Diet Coke.
Making this little table skirt for Abi took more time than I had imagined (life beckons and sassy skirts must be put on hold), and despite the fact that it is just a hair too small, I am happy with the outcome, mostly because Abi is happy with the outcome. It was necessary to borrow two sewing machines for this project because 1) I don't own one and 2) my mom's machine is missing a zipper foot which was necessary for the piping. I had to cover the small table that used to hold a television, that is now in the room that Connor and Carly share (I know, the tiles say Abi and Carly and someday I hope they can share a room, but right now, that's not an option we can take as drama pursues between the two siblings). There is this cardboard type backing and Dakota was trying his darndest to take it off, and seeing as how Abi got attached to the table being in the location it was at (I had moved it only to vacuum behind it's original location) I just couldn't move it. I made sure that the side nearest her had a slit in the middle for easy access to all of her imaginary fixins' (and learned yesterday that the bottom shelf makes for a great place for little girls to tuck away and hide themselves in). Now she has her own fun little play corner and I can get my daily dose of "Diet Coke" imaginary or otherwise.
You may recognize the lamp on the table from here. It was repurposed one more time before it became the girly lamp it is now. Connor had it in his room for a while and each panel was covered in a different colored paper rocket. I love things that are so easily morphed into something else (unlike my arms which have yet to be easily morphed into something akin to Kelly Ripa's).

Please Note: I will not be showing a close-up of the table skirt as I know there are many of my friends and family members who are much better at sewing than I am and I would rather they not see my skill-less-ness under that type of magnification.