We have this little room at the end of our hall that many people don't know exists. It's not that it is concealed by some kind of rotating book case, it's because we always had the door firmly closed. Most people, when I talk of our 4th room, are surprised, and ask where it is, thinking that the closed door contained the linen closet. Ashamedly, it was not the linen closet. It was our Junkroom.
It was the room where we would dump all those things that had no other place in our home, where we would chuck everything when we did a quick whip-around clean-up 5 minutes before friends would arrive. It had a running machine, a futon (with various sporting equipment stashed under it), a tv, the printer, a filing cabinet and lots and lots of boxes and other assorted flotsam and jetsam. I would show a photo but no eyes, let alone lens, has ever seen it.
This weekend, the reign of the junk room has ended. We have found a place for each item that called the junk room home and if we couldn't find a new spot for it, it was either chucked or was ebayed. Tonight, the junk room has metamorphosed into Missy's bedroom.
Like the stuff in the junk room, our Missy has had no real room in our home. She would do her day sleeps in the Roosters room but at night we would put her on the landing because she is such an atrocious sleeper (have I mentioned that before?).
I found it hard to break the umbilical cord and put her downstairs, when the rest of us were sleeping together upstairs. But on Tuesday we hit breaking point. We needed to break her bad sleep habits, so down she went.