It's usually in the front of the house, right by the door, commonly known, in Utah, as the visiting teaching room.
There was a room like that in my house growing up. It was a beautiful room, with beautiful things in it, but I never really understood it. Why would mom have a nice room, with nice couches, that we rarely got to sit on, and nice things we were forbidden to touch.
Now I get it.
A woman just wants one room in the house that might stay nice, stain free, and put together for more than an hour. A room of peace, beauty, and favorite things.
Well, I have THAT room in my house. I put all of my cute fancy homemade pillows in there. My favorite red couch in there. My favorite table that I painted is there. The piano is in there.
The room is still in the making, and needs some color or wallpaper, but it is still the room where I prefer the kids stay out of, unless they are practicing piano.
Unfortunately, my plans were not to be so. At least, in Williams world.
My favorite red couch, is now known as "the pouty couch."
For some reason known only to a 3 year old in the thick of distress and heightened emotions, the red couch has become the spot to unleash the slobbering, snotting, screaming, thrashing, release of these emotions. These usually occur when there is ketchup, chocolate, or some other non cleanable substance on the said subjects hands and face. It is not just a spot, it is THE spot.
This is the pouty couch the way I prefer it. Same with the table.
This is the pouty couch in action.
Sorry, I deleted this picture. But I am sure you can imagine a pouting 3 year old.
|This is actually not bad. The other week, the pictures were also off the walls, and you can't see the snot and Cheetos stains all over.|
And this is about 2 minutes later.
Of all the rooms in the house, seriously!
Oh well. Maybe next time I get upset, I should test out the pouty couch, it is kind of soft.