When I spotted the paper, I knew immediately that it was the one for me. I wish I could show you a photo, but you'll have to use your imagination. Picture an explosion of large, bright flowers. Now, double the brightness. Hot pink, shocking purple, parrot green. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
My mother gently tried to steer me toward other choices. She reminded me that I would have to live with my choice for years to come. She coached me to envision the paper, not as it was in small sample in my hand, but on every wall. She allowed that it was lovely, but perhaps a little bright.
But I was firm, and, to her credit, she stuck to her word. She had said I could choose, and I did. "Are you absolutely certain?" she asked, one last time, before paying at the register. Yes, I was sure.
My father hung the paper without comment, and only the slightest twinkle of amusement in his eyes. We finished the room off with a green shag rug. The result -- to my second-grade self -- was glorious; I had the most beautiful room in all the world.
The NaBloPoMo writing prompt for Monday, September 12, 2011 was "Write about your childhood bedroom." Learn more about NaBloPoMo at http://nablopomo.blogher.com/.