back a thousand lifetimes ago near the end of my pregnancy, i asked my husband to get two cream-colored roll-up shades to go behind the sheer curtains i'd bought for the nursery. for some reason, these shades were critical to the overall outcome of the room and i was adamant that they not be too white or they'd clash with the off-white trimming. who can comfortably live in a home with clashing whites?! not our daughter.* he brought them home and though the package said they were cream, they were beige. i thought they were hideous. and i may or may not have been touched with a bit of hormone-induced irrationality which led me to growl at my husband for getting BEIGE ("i don't care if the package says they're cream; they're beige.") when i plainly stated i wanted CREAM. but i was all, "whatever. they're going up and i'll replace them later
if when i still hate them." i was further horrified the next day when i saw an orange glow coming from her room. turns out, afternoon sun filtered through beige shades is orange. i mean really... orange? hate. at least, i did. i don't know if it was all those months spent sprawled out on the floor of turtle's room watching her play in the afternoon light or if i'd just regained a little bit of sanity (or traded insanity for delirium), but i grew to accept the strange orange glow as part of my surroundings. i didn't just accept it, i reveled in it. now, all these orange-tinged memories later, i look forward to seeing how the house will look each afternoon as the sun bursts through those beige shades and paints every wall it touches the color of a creamsicle. magical, i tell you.
oh, and i apologized to my husband. i've told him a number of times since how happy i am with his "mistake," especially when he's standing in it. and even more especially when he's standing in it while wearing that A-shirt.
*please, please understand that whole clashing whites statement is dripping with sarcasm.