Signs of Mini-Addiction

Signs of Mini-Addiction
by Chryssa Sharp
You e-mail your sister with news of the wonderful set of dishes you just bought. She e-mails back asking if they are for your kitchen or your dollhouse's. You wonder why she had to ask.
Your subscriptions to Miniature Collector and Dollhouse Miniatures are listed in your household budget under "Essentials" -- between groceries and utilities.
Your kids/grandkids know not to "borrow" any of your tweezers upon threat of permanent grounding.
The first thing you do when arriving in a new city is scour the Yellow Pages for information about local miniature stores. This is assuming that you haven't already obtained this information from internet sources and/or ads in the miniature magazines. Then again, it never hurts to double check.
You know the UPS man and the Priority Post delivery person by name.
Your kids are over the moon with excitement at your family's arrival at Disney World. In an act of supreme parental sacrifice, you decide to wait until day two to visit Ron's Miniature Shop.
Your friends and family are trained to bring you little do-dads they find at garage sales.
Your friends and family are accustomed to your exclamations of "There's a garage sale! We have to stop!"
Your spouse is pouring over guidebooks and road maps planning your once-in-a-lifetime autumn trip to New England for some "leaf peeping." Your only concern is making sure one of the routes includes Hwy 101 and a stop at Earth and Tree. Even better, send spouse off with the car and settle in for a *day* at Earth and Tree.
A friend is proudly showing you her latest Scrapbooking project. You're so busy envisioning the background paper in a mini room setting that you don't notice the pictures of little Emily's soccer games or Dylan's birthday party. (This becomes embarrassingly obvious in a later conversation with said friend.)
You see a real-sized gadget / small appliance / decorative accessory in a store for $20 and think, "That's outrageous!" You see the same gadget / small appliance / decorative accessory in miniature for $20 and think, "What a deal!" You buy two.
You have three variations of living rooms in miniature settings. Your real-sized living room furniture is more than twenty years old and the sofa's springs are shot.
Other people hear the name "Brooke" and think "Shields". You think "Tucker".
You have two or more unassembled dollhouse kits in your possession.
You've driven more than three hours - one way - to attend a miniature show. (You are not a miniature dealer or artisan.)
You associate with at least five people who know the difference between a "DH" and a "dh".
You have ten or more unassembled furniture or accessory kits in your possession.
You have strong opinions about the differences between bonding agents.
You've gone to a furniture store with a tape measure in hand claiming the need to "make sure it will fit". You're really just after the measurements so that you can accurately produce your own miniature version. (You'd take pictures and make sketches if you thought you could get away with it. Bonus points if you actually have.)
Your neighbors smile and nod sympathetically at your spouse when they catch you rummaging through their garbage - again.
When water cooler talk turns to "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" and "Survivor", you admit that the only TV show you've seen in the last six months is PBS' "1900 House".
You have wrestled with the decision as to whether or not you should throw out a piece of wood that is smaller than your thumb.
You have wrestled with the decision as to whether or not you should throw out a piece of wood that is smaller than a toothpick.
You have been known to empty McDonald's of all their coffee stirrers.
Your husband buys you a power tool for Christmas and you're thrilled.
You have spent more on shipping and handling than on the actual cost of an item.
You have intended to mail order "just one thing", but in an effort to save on multiple shipping and handling charges, you buy a dozen items. After all, you *are* saving money in the long run.
You spent the three-plus hours of Titanic studying Kate Winslet's dresses and millinery. After the movie, you had to ask your viewing companion "What happened?"
You've tried to co-ordinate the client visit in Chicago with the Chicago International.
You discover that you have a two hour layover at Chicago's O'Hare airport and seriously contemplate trying to race downtown to see the Thorne Rooms and Colleen Moore's Fairy Castle.
You regularly purchase any of the following magazines: Architectural Digest, Victorian Decorating & Lifestyle, Country Homes & Interiors, Log Homes Illustrated, Early American Homes, House Beautiful...
You've checked your e-mail more than once in a one hour period to see if any more Small Stuff digests or related messages have arrived.
The saying that "the best things in life come in small packages" is not just a pleasant adage. It's a cornerstone of your philosophy of life.