Chair, when you're done doing your homework you can watch TV but not a minute sooner.
You stay away from the mattress, you hear? You can't say I didn't warn you.
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?
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.
We'll have that human mess cleared out before you move in, no worries.
Nothing sells a house like a kid stripping in the middle of a mess.
How anyone could even attempt to sleep in this place is beyond me. It's like a theme park, a Thomas Kinkade painting and a daycare all wrapped into one. Visual assault!
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