On days that work is especially tough, and grown-up problems are weighing me down more than usual, I dream of being a kid again. Of the days when I could go to sleep, all tucked up snug in bed, and let absolutely everything drift away without a single worry about tomorrow.
Maybe that's why I've been noticing nook beds more than usual lately. The ones that are not only built-in, but that come down a bit at the top to create a cocoon of cozy.
These are for childhoods filled with magic, not with video games. These are for rooms filled with dollhouses and swords and trunks of dress up clothes, colouring books and timeworn blankies. These are for tales of Peter Pan and the Velveteen Rabbit late into the night. These are for dreaming.