Oh my storage! S can say "I told you so" a hundred times over. He won't, but he's allowed, if he so desires. After entertaining our first non-parent guests during a bowl game yesterday I decided to lock myself in the guest room to tackle the wardrobe.
Each time S came upstairs to help me he was uncharacteristically quiet, only mumbling, "you know this is particle board, right?" Yeah, I knew it was particle board. I knew it and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, but I pressed forward with the project.
Several hours later I stood in front of a massive wardrobe that was 1/2" too large for its intended space. I measured the space when the previous owners' nursery furniture was in place and did not see the extra trim piece around the edge of the molding around the floor.
I pushed the giant mistake to the right of the window where it fit just fine, but without the possibility of two wardrobes flanking the window, I was no longer in love with the plan. I am not going to cut any molding on our flawlessly finished floors to make a particle board wardrobe fit, so tonight I carefully took the entire wardrobe apart and packaged it back in its box. We'll be making the trip back to Ikea tomorrow, if the giant thing fits in S's parents' station wagon.
So storagegate continues, except this time it's just an internal conflict as I try to figure out what to buy/use/create to store the rest of my stuff.