I was sitting at this table last September when I realised Peppa Pig has a decidedly phallic-shaped face. As my almost-three-year-old daughter continued our annual tradition of scrolling Pinterest for her birthday cake design, it became clear that even the slightest misstep in icing her chosen pink pig and I’d inadvertently be subjecting six toddlers to their inaugural exotic cake.

This room was never intended for dining. Don Cowey designed the home in the late 1960s for artist Olivia Spencer Bower, and this was her painting studio. Trying to retrofit a table into the space has always felt a bit awkward to me. It’s too big to be used for dining alone, but too small to be multipurpose, so we’re about to rejig things and reinstate the original dining area on the other side of the house — this will become our lounge.

The change-up means we’ll need to swap the table out for a smaller, probably circular one, which has me reminiscing. The kids have grown up around this table, and their young lives are etched into it — literally. There are the pen marks from haphazard colouring, the teal food-dye stain that seeped in during a vinegar volcano experiment, and the spot where I stripped the varnish by chipping a chunk of dried porridge off with my library card. It’s hosted friends, birthdays, big nights, tantrums, countless family meals and major life decisions. Plus, we bought it at 50 percent off, so that’s always nice.

For a table that never really landed with me, this one’s become the centrepiece of our lives as learner parents. And while I won’t be sad to see it go (let’s be real), I hope this slightly crooked eight-seater serves its next whānau just as well.

PM if interested.