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I like to imagine that what happens inside The Purple Room is that people sit around listening to "Little Red Corvette," discussing the relative merits of the word tiara versus diadem, and repeatedly having The Great Debate, Version 2.0: Indigo - In or Out of the Rainbow?, but I guess I'll never really know what goes on in there.
My mother-in-law has names for the bedrooms in her house. "You'll be staying in the Yellow Room" she always tells us, as if we don't know by now that we get the Yellow Room because it's the only one without a closet large enough to fit a Pack and Play and if we are going to insist on not giving her any more grandbabies, then, by gum, you're going to get the Yellow Room with its squeaky bed and drafty window.
So I kind of want to start naming the rooms in our apartment. It's the Book Room (the office), the Couch Room (the living room), the Food Room (self-explanatory), but it seems as if the other person in my household refuses to give up the traditional names and absolutely, positively DOES NOT think it is funny at all to use formal sounding names, despite my peals of laughter when referring to the Food Room.
In the meantime, this fake plant in The Purple Room is as close to flowers as it's going to get around here until May.
***************************To see what Bestest Friend wrote about the theme of the day, check out her blog, Too Legit To Quit.
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