I have to admit…when it comes to husbands, I’m completely blessed. I have a husband who allows me to be my crazy self, and he doesn’t even say anything about it. When I come home from garage sales towing more furniture than our little condo can hold, he just smiles and goes on. When I start painting random colors on the walls in search of the perfect shade of blue-green, he doesn’t even bat an eye. When I change my mind about decor on a weekly basis, he just laughs. He’s so easy going. In fact, he’s told me time and time again that our home is mine to do with as I want.
But a couple of nights ago, he said that he did have two requests. First, he asked that I don’t paint any room solid black. Ooohhh…I’m itchin’ to paint a room black, but I gave him my word that I wouldn’t. (Of course, he didn’t mention anything about dark chocolate brown, or really dark gray!!)
Second, he asked that I don’t fill our condo with a lot of pink. Okay, that’s understandable, but why…oh why…am I so addicted to pink lately?? I’ve never been a girly, pink kind of person. But lately, I just can’t seem to get enough of it. Oh how I’d love to have this bed in my bedroom:
[photo from www.designersguildus.com]
I can do without the bedding, but that bed is fabulous! Oh, I can just see it now…that bed in a room with black walls, crisp white accent furniture, and vases of perfectly pink peonies. But it’s not meant to be. Why is it that we always want what we can’t have?