Alexis is not happy about all this house stuff. She has learned to embrace the fact that many of her toys have had to get ready to go to the new house, even going so far as to help me separate them into "OK to go to the new house" and "Needs to stay here longer" piles. However, she has not learned to embrace anything to do with the actual house itself.

Saturday, as we scoured the place for reasons to keep our money, Alexis followed me around asking to go home. I took her whining as an opportunity to break it to her that we might be making that place our new home.

She wasn't impressed.

I tried telling her that she was going to get to finally have a room just for all her toys.

She wasn't impressed.

I told her that we would be able to have a swing and slide in the yard, just outside the back door.

She wasn't impressed.

I tried to tell her she could pick whatever bedroom she wanted (just so long as it was the one I wanted her to pick--the biggest bedroom has its own bathroom and NO, ain't no 3-year old of mine getting a bathroom all to herself).

She wasn't impressed.

I then dug deep in my bag of tricks and told her that she could paint her room whatever color she wanted.

She wasn't impressed.

It wasn't until later when I took her to look at paint samples at Home Depot that she started to see the joy in decorating her new room. She intently studied the rainbow of choices, searching high and low for just the right color.

She grabbed pink.

I HATE pink. Like, HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE. Alexis doesn't know that because I try not to influence her likes/dislikes (Hello? The kid loves Lima beans. I cannot accept blame or credit for that fact--it's all her.). Yet, I hate pink, especially decorating with it, with the fire of a million suns.

Whatever.

I begrudgingly told her she could paint her room pink.

She was happy. Then she saw something that made her even happier.

It.

The display for Disney paint.

And the other it.

A little sample card of a room painted with a High School Musical theme.

She happily told me, "I know! I'll get a pink High School Musical room!"

::headdesk::

Ever since then, she has carried around that little card, occasionally glancing at it and smiling as she imagines her pink High School Musical bedroom, complete with High School Musical blankets, walls, carpet, and doors (her ideas, not mine).

I'm going to hate every single second of decorating that room, but at least Mr. Husband will be able to get his Zac Efron fix whenever he needs it.