I was oldest so I got to chose first. It was, to me, a massive house. Two stories. White. All the bedrooms were upstairs. There was one that was sky blue and full of windows (it had once been a second floor porch) with beautiful billowy diaphanous curtains. I fell in love with my room and did not want to ever leave it. But, we had to wait until the former owners moved their remaining shit out.
We finally got back into the house about a week later and I ran to my room where I was immediately shot in the heart. The curtains were gone. All gone. The sky blue looked tired and the windows looked mean. To this day - nearly 60 years later I can still taste the bitter disappointment. I'm not kidding. It was life changing and lesson teaching. I got new curtains but they weren't the same. They painted the room, blue like I wanted and it was ok. I learned to love that room and when I was punished always hoped for the sentence of 'go to your room'. (Thankfully, time-outs were not yet invented.)
But, it was never really the same. I never again captured that magic that was there the day I first saw it.
Thanks to the magic of Google's Street View, I can see that the house is still there and so is my room. I do wonder who's room it is now.