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This would be my fantasy room … it sort of reflects how I like to think I should be living.
…then I remember the last time my toddler Son ate an orchid flower. The projectile vomit had a unique quality, like industrial glue but with a less pleasant aroma.
And then into this fantasy room… my real life wife would crash through the door dragging a horse saddle, a wet hound dog and a box of children’s drawings that she must grade , by spreading them out over the whole floor ( I will keep finding small glitter bits for days.)
The wet hound dog with the muddy paws will then eat the child’s vomit and then settle down to block the fire place, farting.
The damp horse smelling saddle will sit on that nice table because something needs fixing, waxing, adjusting or ..or will just sit there until the musty smell of horse ferments and penetrates even my wife’s numbed nasal passage ..and she will ask me to put it in the ….where is the saddle storage in this house? .
My eldest child would hate this room… because she hates everything, she would sigh with visceral hate at the dullness of it (…and her friends house would be better, so very very much better)
The cats would fine with it …. plenty to happen their claws on, and those high shelves would present an irresistible challenge.
But I would love to live here.
God,I really would.