Dear Playroom,

Within your slanted attic walls, where a full grown person can't quite stand straight, you have seen great things. You've watched the building of wooden commuter train tracks, cities, nations of animals with houses, shops, and little wooden landscaped yards. You have witnessed princesses atop firetrucks putting out deadly fires, and transformers dancing the waltz with pandas. You have seen the same block building built and knocked down (gleefully!) more than hundreds of times. You knew all the secrets of the hiding forts, and where the treasure lies. Your nooks were loyal friends during hide and go seek and the refuge where After Pinata Candy Gorging predictably took place. You've seen tremendous tickle fights and cautious consoling. Your third story stairwell has lead to hours upon hours of uninterrupted, uninhibited imagination and creation. You have seen young friends develop relationships, you have seen adults transform into children. You are the setting of lemon yellow wall colored Best Memories Ever. You have served us well, dear playroom. We will miss you.