A Sensible Shade of Yellow

I placed my daisy pillow case on top of my bedspread and began to survey my newly decorated room. I'd been begging Mom to let me paint it ever since Karli Newey painted her room periwinkle, with stenciled purple flowers, and Karlie Richman got her very own mural in her bedroom. Mom told me that I couldn't get anything that extravagant in my room, but that if I could choose a sensible style and do the painting by myself, she would certainly allow me to paint my bedroom. I'd chosen a pastel yellow color, because I thought that it matched the sunshine--not the blazing hot, summer sun, but the warm light that accompanies a cool, early spring afternoon. Now, after a weekend of moving out my hoards of collected knick knacks and furniture, painting, and then reloading the room, I was thrilled with the result. In the corner sat my white desk. It was covered with more pencils than a little girl could ever need, as well as purple picture frames full of images of Karlie and Karli. To the left of that sat my 4-tier bookshelf, teeming with The Box Car Children, Nancy Drew, and The American Doll series. In the center of the carpet lay a large, purple daisy rag-rug. It accompanied myriads of daisy designs found around my room. Somehow, I assumed that Mom would believe that my fascination with the flower meant that I was "sensible", and that she wouldn't make me repaint my room a dull white.