Tangled Up

"How about blue?" I suggested from the backseat.

I was about eight, and my nose was buried in a Babysitters Club book.

Wrong answer.

My mother started manically screaming,

"BLUE!? REALLY? YOU THINK THAT'S OKAY? THE HOUSE IS BLUE! YOU WOULD HAVE US BUY A BLUE CAR!? YOU ACTUALLY THINK IT'S OKAY TO HAVE A BLUE CAR IN THE DRIVEWAY WHEN THE HOUSE IS BLUE!?"

What sane person could suggest such a thing! Report me to Martha Stewart or the Paint Police, whoever could charge me first!

Imagine what the neighbors would say if- oh, wait, not one person would ever waste time or energy caring about that, let alone notice it. 

What if the blue car, and blue house, were set against a backdrop of a blue sky? We would die of embarrassment and have to move away. 

As I so often did, I tuned her out and settled back into my book. The Babysitters Club lived in an idyllic world, a calming world. They lived in my precious escape, without insane adults. 

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