It's late on a Saturday night (well, late for 38-year olds), and Jack the Psychotabby is nosing around in the sun room, until recently filled with greenery but now entirely empty. Our living room, meanwhile, is in a state of...something. Let's call it mid-spring cleaning. And the dining room can safely no longer be called such. We can call it
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But did he think that pepto/womb pink was a good choice?
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