With all the basement revamp talk happening (I refuse to call it remodeling because we’re only getting new floors and maybe a new coat of paint but yes A NEW BATHROOM (sort of)), I’ve been thinking a lot about our house and how we use it. I’m just so excited to get our basement back and have a space for entertaining and SPORTSSSSS and watching movies complete with our fancy sound system that we haven’t used in over a year {deep breath} that it made me RETHINK the fact that all this should be done with our dear Abbers in mind. As much as the hubs (whose birthday is today – HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLD BALLS!) would like to call the basement “The Man Cave” – let’s be real. I’m going to use it just as much. As is our Abbers. So let’s at least make it appropriate for all of us, mmmkay?
The other day I started thinking about a room down there that will still have carpet (since it has a door and thus, no cat pee) and how it has always been “the music room” complete with drums, bass, guitar, bongos blah blah blah I never go in there. I’m happy that the hubs has a room in our house where these things can go (even if when he plays he may as well be sitting right in front of me since it’s like, negative sound proofed), but suddenly I had a vision. A vision of the hubs and I watching a movie or entertaining friends while a football game is on…and Abby having that room as her playroom full of toys and play kitchens and dress-up costumes…and HOLY CRAP THAT IS THE BEST IDEA EVAR. And like in the movies, there was the screech of braking tires in my brain because that will more than likely never happen. Because…where would the precious drums and cymbals and other such equipment that gets used once every 3 months go?
{you sense my sarcasm here, right?}
I don’t want to take that room away from my husband. This is obvious mostly in the fact that I’ve never mentioned this idea to him, because I don’t want him to think I don’t understand how much he LOVES that he can have that room. I’ve run through scenarios where he puts the drums in the laundry room and I get that room for Abby…but the litter boxes are in the laundry room. I couldn’t expect him to play in there. I WOULDN’T. But…but…THAT ROOM. IS PERFECT. FOR A PLAYROOM.
A girl can dream. It’s a good thing for Josh that Abby doesn’t understand much that I’m saying yet and also doesn’t understand the concept of a dedicated playroom, because if I told her my idea? HE WOULD NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT. FROM EITHER OF US.
Anyway, please look at the color of my kitchen. I best describe it as “Bloody Poop.” Seriously. There is no better descriptor.
