Musical Rooms

Cletus the Used to be Fetus is boycotting his newly moved into pink room. I'd prefer a silence strike, but that kid, he's a tricky one...he's decided to proceed with some sort of howling ambush. Every two hours he wakes up and screams. All. Night. Long. He's been doing this for a week. It's getting old. I'd let him cry it out, except we shoved him in a room with Dotter and she needs her sleep. (She takes school seriously and lets the teacher know when her mother failed to ensure 8 nonstop hours of slumber.) I could shove Dotter in with Bean -- if I wanted to spend the rest of my life blaming myself for the murder 15-yr old Bean would surely commit against her 9-yr old sister. To me, the answer is obvious: shove Bean in the basement.

What highschooler wouldn't want their room in the basement? Away from the nosey parents. Away from the annoying little sister. Away from the toddler that plays in toilet water. What highschooler wouldn't want their room in an area designated all to themselves? Television over here. A couple of couches to flop on. A table next to the bookshelves, perfect for homework.

My child. That's what highschooler wouldn't want that. Mine.

I tried to entice her by telling her we could install new carpet or hardwood and promising she could pick out her own color scheme.

"What do you want your room to look like?" I asked as giddy as I could muster.

Her snide response: "I want black walls and my windows to be secured with duct tape. You can give me bread and water through a hole in the wall while you're at it. I can pee in a little tin can, too."

And I thought sweet! This is going to be a lot cheaper than I thought!