I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

I run my fingers over the scratches on the door frame that tell of Piper’s displeasure at being left in the bedroom.

           No worries. We can fix that up with a little paint. This molding has been repainted many times.

          Look, you can see the teal paint under the scratches. Reminds me of when I was a teenager.

And suddenly I’m remembering all the transformations the room has been through in the thirty-nine years we have lived in this house.  Allan and I spent months scraping off the faded flowered wallpaper left by the previous owners, expectant parents preparing a nursery. I scoured wall paper books until I found the perfect Noah’s Ark print for the one large wall without a window. A beautiful shade of sunflower yellow glowed on the rest of the walls as we started a family with Brian, and then Ann.

The nursery, later officially named Ann’s room, got a make-over for her fifth birthday. The walls became a ballerina pink to match the white canopy bed with the flowered bedspread. Curtains made from sheets coordinated with the bedspread danced in the breeze – a perfect little-girl room.

But little girls grow up. As a teenager, Ann wanted her room to be teal and black. Yes, it was the late nineties. But black walls? Really?  We worked on a plan and together she and I spent a hot summer afternoon sponge painting that one large wall without a window. Splotches of teal and black and mauve screamed at us. We made the remaining walls an off-white, and the trim a bold teal. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds, although I do recall Brian commenting that it looked like someone just threw up on that wall.

When Ann left for college we repainted the walls a neutral cream (mostly to hide the sponge splotches on the one large wall without a window) but left the teal trim. Then, after she moved to California, the room became an official guest room of soft yellow and oyster ivory. …

I run my fingers over the scratches on the door frame that tell of Piper’s displeasure at being left in the bedroom.

        No worries. Just one more coat of paint and another memory for this room.