the puzzle

So every year a little voice in the back of my mind creeps in to convince me of how much fun a puzzle would be. This epiphany usually makes its presence known right around Thanksgiving and carries itself to an excruciating fruition right about the New Year. This fun little bout with insanity usually costs me a couple sleepless nights and countless uninspired hours of staring blankly at a table full of random pieces glaring back at my frustration with their own uppity contempt.

A delightful not-so-little 864 square inches of 2,000 microscopic evil amorphous puzzle pieces met their match just a few days ago. Of course, the question must be asked, who met whose match? Considering somewhere near 35 days of puzzle war before the victor was crowned. A victory nonetheless.

I am proud to say the battle is over, the war is one, and the wife is much happier without the Van Gogh inspired monster hogging the dinner table.