The Pink Room

The girl's room was pink forever. Eight years may not seem like forever, unless you are ten years old, and all you have known is hot pink. It was garish. Visitors like it enough. The bright pink would glow all the way down the hallway, warning you of its' presence, allowing you a warmup sensation before you actually entered the room.  The girls and I were having bad hair days because of the pink, it followed us, a sort of inferno burning bright that crept underneath our skin. We had to change.

Then, there were the disney princess beds. They were configured as bunk beds-ugghh. Then, they got separated. The whole tiny room seemed like bed. What to do? I can't bear another bunk bed. We have decided to trundle Miley. She's five. She'll love it. The tiny room needs space, needs to breathe. Hello Craigslist, I love you and love others through you.

Three trips up to Pottery Barn Outlet, and I've got all I need. Three trips to Benjamin Moore paint, and lots of self doubting, but we made it. In one week the room transforms from garish pink princess to soft gray. My eyes relax. The sea foam green is not my favorite, but the girls want it.

I'm tickled pink. It turned out great.