Smurfs. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, there is nothing in between. My recent trip to the storage unit was like a sweet trip down Smurf Street.

I unearthed the Smurf firetruck.

And the Smurf bus.

There’s a very boring blank spot in my kitchen directly above the kitchen sink. I’ve nailed up a bunch of vintage wooden drawer inserts to make some shelves.

I’ve already put my Gumby and Pokey collection in place.

And now the Smurf mobiles are parked beneath my posing, bendable friends.

And yes, I know there are some vintage fingerprints on the roof of the Smurf bus.

And if I had some Smurf size C.S.I. tape, I would have surrounded the shelf with it.

Now off we go to the plush Smurfs.

This dirty little sucker had a bath in hot water and Tide with bleach.

Uh oh, PaPa Smurf cannot sit straight. I’ll show you why.

Poor Papa Smurf spent too much time in the storage unit.

He has a serious case of Wasp Nest Ass.

A picture so great, I had no choice but to show it twice!

The end.