i couldn't make this up.
2:50pm. i'm at work.
receptionist: "um... your mom's on line 1."
me: "what??" [picks up line 1]
me: "yesss...?"
mom: "so, we got new color samples for couches..." [proceeds to explain variances of colors, patterns, lightness, darkness, and brocade (what the hell is brocade anyway??)]
me: "uh. yeahhhh..."
mom: "what do you think?"
me: "what do you mean what do i think?"
mom: "which one should we get?"
me: "are you kidding me?"
mom: "what?"
me: "i don't know what they look like!!"
mom: "but you saw three of them this weekend."
me: "yes. and none of them matched the new carpet."
mom: "well, the new samples don't have as much green in them..."
me: "GREEN?? the three that i saw didn't have any green!"
mom: "what? yes, they did. they were greenish."
me: "but -- oh, never mind. it doesn't matter because I CAN'T SEE THESE SAMPLES."
mom: "they're darker than the ones you saw."
me: "darker? i don't care how dark they are! it's the color -- THE COLOR that matters!"
mom: "well, which one should we get...?"
and so on and so forth. MY GOSH.
for a little background, i was "home" this weekend and indirectly found out that my parents are clearly colorblind. my childhood home of browns, tans, and neutrals [think 70's ranch style home here] is starting to undergo a transformation i can only politely describe as... eclectic. the new carpet in the living room is now an indeterminate shade of gray and/or brownish, and the adjacent kitchen linoleum has been replaced with large mauve-ish tiles. yes -- they're mauve, i swear.
i asked my mother why they went with pink.
she screeched.
"it's not pink! it's sandstone."
[ooooo... "sandstone". my bad.]
"um... there's definitely some pink in that 'sandstone' though."
she wasn't having any of it. sandstone means sandstone, and sandstone does NOT mean pink. sandstone is apparently its own stand alone color, and one cannot describe it with the usual garden variety of color titles found in a 12-crayon crayola box, as most normal people might attempt to do.
also, keep in mind my original description of my childhood home.
gray and mauve?
wtf?
receptionist: "um... your mom's on line 1."
me: "what??" [picks up line 1]
me: "yesss...?"
mom: "so, we got new color samples for couches..." [proceeds to explain variances of colors, patterns, lightness, darkness, and brocade (what the hell is brocade anyway??)]
me: "uh. yeahhhh..."
mom: "what do you think?"
me: "what do you mean what do i think?"
mom: "which one should we get?"
me: "are you kidding me?"
mom: "what?"
me: "i don't know what they look like!!"
mom: "but you saw three of them this weekend."
me: "yes. and none of them matched the new carpet."
mom: "well, the new samples don't have as much green in them..."
me: "GREEN?? the three that i saw didn't have any green!"
mom: "what? yes, they did. they were greenish."
me: "but -- oh, never mind. it doesn't matter because I CAN'T SEE THESE SAMPLES."
mom: "they're darker than the ones you saw."
me: "darker? i don't care how dark they are! it's the color -- THE COLOR that matters!"
mom: "well, which one should we get...?"
and so on and so forth. MY GOSH.
for a little background, i was "home" this weekend and indirectly found out that my parents are clearly colorblind. my childhood home of browns, tans, and neutrals [think 70's ranch style home here] is starting to undergo a transformation i can only politely describe as... eclectic. the new carpet in the living room is now an indeterminate shade of gray and/or brownish, and the adjacent kitchen linoleum has been replaced with large mauve-ish tiles. yes -- they're mauve, i swear.
i asked my mother why they went with pink.
she screeched.
"it's not pink! it's sandstone."
[ooooo... "sandstone". my bad.]
"um... there's definitely some pink in that 'sandstone' though."
she wasn't having any of it. sandstone means sandstone, and sandstone does NOT mean pink. sandstone is apparently its own stand alone color, and one cannot describe it with the usual garden variety of color titles found in a 12-crayon crayola box, as most normal people might attempt to do.
also, keep in mind my original description of my childhood home.
gray and mauve?
wtf?
mdog
16 Comments
Reader Comments (16)
Being a renter, I did not choose it nor did I have any say in it. My sister/roomie and I said to hell with it and put up gray and pink towels and an extraordinarily cheap pink shower curtain. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em ;-)
[Though which do you think is worse: voluntarily choosing gray and mauve, so that you have no one to blame but yourself, or having gray and mauve thrust upon you, so that you have no say in one of the first things you see every morning? Discuss.]
well, i always thought that the 70's decor that was thrust upon me was bad. can't get much worse, right? but to see these new choices unfolding...? either way, they're still thrust upon me, but the real-time process is going to kill me.
and actually, i have to add an option and say the worst is seeing the browns and tans and grays and mauves all coexisting in their sick splendor.
hehe.. just teasing.. i feel your pain
i've tried to steer my folks in the right direction before, and shook my head at some of the choices they['ve made..
sounds like they've graduated from the 70's to the late 80's ;D
it's sad,
thank goodness we moved when I was 4.
....to a home with FAKE WOOD PANELING!!!!
Aaaaiiiiiieeeee.....
and then... a house with cheap blue beads in between rooms instead of doors.
and then... a house with a room in which the walls were covered in FAKE PLASTIC (!?) WHITE BRICKS. Oh how I wish it weren't true.
the coup de grace....
a house with a bright orange kitchen, complete with and bright orange telephone.
do any of you know a good therapist???
:D
I am happy in my hearn. perhaps not all the time, but the happiness occurs fairly frequently.