Finer Things
I have often written about how different Melina is from me. It is never more apparent when we stop by new places or try different experiences. And the funny thing is, her affinity for the finer things manifests itself in the simplest of ways sometimes.
Case in point: she entered a room the other day that screamed Melina. It had light pink walls, a white lamp with pastel decorations on it, white dresser with pink and white knobs, and a bed covered with a flowery quilt. The look on her face was priceless. It said, "If I had a room like this, my life would be complete." Except, of course, it wouldn't be, because she would find something else eventually that she absolutely loved and needed.
The even funnier thing about her reaction to this room has to do with the knobs. She would go up to them, wrap her chubby little fingers around one of them, and smooch the top. Then, she'd whisper, "I love these polished knobs," and flash me a grin.
Case in point: she entered a room the other day that screamed Melina. It had light pink walls, a white lamp with pastel decorations on it, white dresser with pink and white knobs, and a bed covered with a flowery quilt. The look on her face was priceless. It said, "If I had a room like this, my life would be complete." Except, of course, it wouldn't be, because she would find something else eventually that she absolutely loved and needed.
The even funnier thing about her reaction to this room has to do with the knobs. She would go up to them, wrap her chubby little fingers around one of them, and smooch the top. Then, she'd whisper, "I love these polished knobs," and flash me a grin.
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