Sorry, you'll never ever ever get me to step over that gap to get into the loft pod thingy. In my brain that gap has all the sucking vacuum power of a black hole and will surely kill me.
Maybe it's just me, but I think of my bedroom as a private place that I share with my husband and no one else. This sure is a lot of beds. Are we running a convalescent home now?
This thing is like a big ol' sweatbox in the morning I bet. I hope those are terrycloth sheets. Though, it would be a good place to stay when you have a fever you need to sweat out.
I'm not sure if I could handle the dreams I'd have with three terrifying bucking horses in my bedroom.
Something about that bedspread looks positively slimy to me, like if I tried to flop onto the bed I'd slide right off onto the floor. Good thing there's wall to wall carpet I guess.
How can you tell we haven't redecorated since 1993?
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