The other day I was on the phone with my mom and cleaning out my under-the-stairs closet. I was also holding a conversation with my almost-4-year-old that was going a little something like this...
Josh: "Is it dark in there?"
Me: "yup"
J: "Is it dark in there?"
M: "Yes honey"
J: "Is it dark in there?"
Me, looking directly into his eyes: "Yes, it is dark in here. But why don't you ask me one more time."
Josh, looking a little confused: "Is it..."
Me: "Why, yes, it is! Now, go away."
I promptly sit down on a pile of Christmas boxes and extend a heartfelt apology to my mother, because recent anecdotal evidence suggests that Josh is every grandmother's dream grandchild - the reincarnation of all his parents' most 'endearing' traits. (If you're wondering, Josh gets his incessant chattering from me and his skill for pestering from his father - yes, my daily fear IS that my brain will start slowly trickling out my ear - why do you ask?) And now we get to the good part....
This is my downstairs (under the stair) closet. Because of the landing, you walk in, duck your head make a u-turn and crawl a little further.
This is where I keep all things seasonal - usually Christmas boxes in the most inaccessable part, camping and outdoors-y stuff at the "U" and coats and shoes at the front. 
At this time of year I have to go in and "front" all the winter clothes/boots/mittens/etc. 
and I figure, while I'm in there, swap the camping and christmas positions for easy access in another month. This is where I may have hit apon the answer to all my prayers.
The Fortress of SolitudeI figure between my cordless phone, laptop, plug-in cooler and battery operated camping lantern I can hide out in here until my kids go to college.
