Top Table

My mother has a table fetish. Well, actually, we both have a fetish. There's this one small round end table, a red wood pedestal with a Carrera marble top, that I stole from her years ago that has moved so much from room to room and back and forth between our two homes that it deserves frequent flyer miles. (She has claimed it at the moment.) I have to physically force my mother to leave any home store we visit or she'll buy another table — which she'll declare she needs "to set a cup of coffee on in the mornings." It's gotten so out of hand that unlike shoes, she tries to "slip in" her new table purchases without my father noticing. (Trust me, he notices.) I'm quite sure that will one day he'll throw them all out in the front yard in a fit of pique and disown me for enabling her. (And surely there's at least one I can abscond with in the interest of family harmony.) At any rate, now that I've confessed my addiction, surely I deserve a treat, like this aged metal garden table from Decor Steals (my other obsession and go-to for decoding the new house in Florida). No? But, really, I can use it. It's perfect for my lanai ... and that morning cup of coffee. No, seriously, see, there's this prime spot ...