A few years ago, I fell in love with toy theaters. They are so small and cute, and you can move the little paper actors around the stage while you narrate a 16th century script using your most dramatic voice. It sounds like good fun.
This year I've decided life would be easier if I just took my handy ray gun and shrunk myself down to Elven size. Then, I'd move into one of those big paper palaces.
The things I wouldn't have to deal with? Hmmm, let me count. 1) Dishes. Because paper food doesn't taste good anyway; 2) Laundry. I mean, the paper costumes would get all ruined by the water; 3) Teenagers. Hormones would be burned off properly during the two daily performances, but that doesn't seem right. And my hubby? Well, we'll see, but definitely my dog is shrinking down to wispy size, too. Two dimensional is the way to go.
What I did learn about toy theaters I will spell out over the next few blog entries.