The closet...
Our home growing up was very, very small. I don't recall it bothering me or being anything of an issue at the time. But now as I look back I can only imagine the time my Mom had keeping it neat and tidy with 4 kids, a dog, and my Dad to deal with. All of our "stuff". My room was painted a light pink, with bright raspberry trim. My carpet was grey. All my furniture was painted white. I had a bedspread that was patchwork and everything had a place. There was a closet in my room, but it was filled with my Moms clothes and shoes, hats, coats and belts. That door would only close and latch if you pushed hard and heard the click of the handle. Once it was shut, you wouldn't dare open it-for fear of the BOING of clothes! It was certainly neat, but JAMMED full of stuff. When I got in a mood, which didnt happen often I would climb into the closet and sit on the shoes. Then pull the door closed behind me and wait for the click. That mean...