My family and I recently moved into our first house in a suburb of New York City. About 45 seconds after the moving men dropped off our last box, I made a startling discovery: My husband didn't think much of my bold design plans for our living room. I should add: the living room is one we share with a 3-year-old daughter and 5-month-old son. Our conversation about it went something like this:
Him: "White?! As in, white walls?"
Me: "White. As in white everything."
Him: "Yeah, okay. Right." (har, har?)
Me: "So, I think the love seat will look good by the window --"
Him: "You mean the white love seat. The one you bought even though we have a toddler who picks up spaghetti strands with her fingers and makes them talk to each other."
Me: "It's more of an ivory than a snow white."
Him: "Well, that'll make all the difference when we're replacing the couch in three months."