Caroline and Edward's rooms were most likely designed as two rooms but were built as one long chamber (for what purpose the original owners intended I can only guess - indoor shuffleboard?) When we moved in we put a TV and a small couch one end but essentially used it as the world's least convenient guest room. You know, for those times when you want to sleep five people in one space. Then, when I felt somewhat optimistic that 13a and 13b would become actual humans I asked Steve to put up a wall and in a door to create two separate rooms because the introvert in me (that would be all of me) felt very strongly that even twins - regardless of the sameness or differentness of their sexes [we didn't know what flavor they were until they were born] - need to have their own private spaces.
This wound up being an excellent decision because it has given Caroline a place to keep all of her things while she and Edward trash his room. She has slept in his room off and on since babyhood and more or less permanently ever since he got a bunkbed.
The conversation went like this:
"Oh I love our new bed!"
"Caroline, it's my bed."
"I think we should get some pink sheets, maybe pink sheets with dots, for the top bunk."
"Caroline it's my bed."
"I can put my blankets and my animals right here and maybe build a fort in the corner... ."
"CAROLINE! It's my bed!"
"Of course it's your bed. It's your room. I know that. It's just that I think one part of your bed - probably the top part would be best for you - should have pink sheets and I'll sleep there. But it's still your bed."
"OK," Edward said, mollified for no fathomable reason.
Huh. Why on earth... ?
So the room was built as this one long narrow space but we stuck a wall in the middle and it resulted in weird outlet placement, which in turn resulted in one of those little annoyances that plague one. So little, so annoying. To wit, I plug in the vacuum in Edward's room and vacuum vacuum vacuum and the cord then stretches out his door and into Caroline's room where I vacuum vacuum vacu... the cord stops four feet from the far wall. So I have to turn off the vacuum and walk into Edward's room, unplug the cord and carry it into Caroline's room where - work with me here - both of the outlets are covered with those white plastic child safety covers. For the eleventy'ish hundred time I looked at the covers, said arrrggh and started downstairs to get a butter knife to use to pry the cover off.
Wait. I know. Stay with me.
As I was walking back up the stairs I thought, "Huh. This seems like an extremely inefficient way to do this. Maybe I should keep a butter knife in Caroline's closet so it is on hand. God I hate those covers. Maybe I could buy a new vacuum with a slightly longer cord so I don't have to use Caroline's outlets at all?"
.... (go ahead. twiddle your thumbs. it'll come to me eventually)
It was like I had been smacked in the face with a haddock. Caroline is SEVEN. Her father just bought her a swiss army knife. Why in the name of all that is holy do I still have covers on her outlets?
It's like you go on auto-pilot and it can take forever to realize that the coffee mugs should probably live next to the coffee pot, rather than in the cabinet on the other side of the room into which which you unpacked them twelve years ago. I mean, as a random example of something someone might do.
PS Trying new new layout. Still trying to accommodate the mobile device people without making us desktop users feel like we've just been given those dilating drops at the ophthalmologist*. Feel free to complain.
*You do not want to know how many attempts it took me to spell this word. Many.