Now I get it. Now I understand why my parents painted our metal swing set bark brown, the color of dirt, mulch, brick, leaves, wood. It blended nicely with the natural environment. How boring for a 6-year-old.
Of course, back then, I didn’t appreciate the aesthetically driven decision to mask the loud red-and-blue racer stripes and tone down the shiny silver-coated frame of the old swing set. This was before the days of fancy play sets—the ones that look like they are constructed from Linkin’ Logs, with built-in clubhouses, plastic swervy slides and cool tire swings. Ours was your standard-issue swing set circa 1984: 2 swings (of course), a bar for skinning the cat and doing flips (for the Gumby types), a simple slide and…well, that’s it. And ours was dark brown, or “poop brown,” as my younger brother, Erik, and I would have described (snicker).
Now I get it.
And I’m painting my baby world brown, too.
I’m talking to a girlfriend who comes to visit Max. She surveys the living room and is shocked that it hasn’t become Romper Room (yet). “That swing actually looks good in here,” she says about the automatic rocker that puts every kid to bed except Max. (Go figure.)
Sure, the swing looks O.K. in the living room. Because it blends. The seat cover is shades of pewter, olive and taupe. It is positioned in the corner, discreetly taking up real estate by a plant. It’s not a piece of contemporary furniture—it’s not material for Dwell. But it doesn’t look like a prop for The Ringling Brothers.
It’s “brown.”
I’m talking to a college sorority sister, whose EDD (estimated date of delivery) is in a couple short weeks. “Where did you find the glider in your nursery?” she asks me. She’s talking about the most heavenly comfy chair I’ve ever owned—and the ugliest thing in our house.
“It’s impossible to find one that looks half decent!” I say. “I’ve looked everywhere. They don’t make sleek gliders. Contemporary gliders don’t exist.”
“I know!!” She agrees. She has also looked…and looked, and found only the frumpy, country-style specimen that is oh-so-comfortable that you just overlook the sad reality: It’s F-ugly.
“If you find a modern glider, let me know. I got mine at BRU. It’s the same one you find everywhere…but I took a floor model so I wouldn’t have to assemble the thing,” I say.
And, I found mine on sale, which justified bringing home the rocker. I was looking for something vintage, something edgy, anything but the same glider you see everywhere. But you can’t always be different
But at least I found something “brown.” The glider has oatmeal-colored upholstery and a white frame. It blends. And I have spent more waking hours in that chair in the last four months than I have in my bed, I’m afraid. So it’s a keeper.
Now, our basement is slowly transforming into a home-office/Max party zone. (Sorry, Haven. Your man cave is under siege by a four-month old with bigger toys than you and me.) I’m not sure how long we’ll stay “brown” down here…Bumbo seat is purple, Tummy Time mat looks like an underwater spectacle, hanging over the Pack ‘n Play is an array of colorful lures that Max likes to grab.
So far, the carnival is being contained to Max’s “office.” But we’ll see how long that lasts! (Mayzie: Watch out, girl. Your cozy dog bed could get a new neighbor once I assemble the Baby Jumper!)
