Sitting in my chair, now with a one-way mirror for my thoughts, but sadly without a purring cat on my lap or next to me, for Leroy was one of a kind, which seems to be a description of descriptions for describing the quality of animals we may have as pets, but if we're sentimental is also suited to the describing of inanimate things; but unless we're looking at gifts which we might just as well say come from God, inanimate things are correctly to be judged by their degree of quality.
A degree, believe it or not, is a power of nought. Quality is measurable: every factory must quantify it for each of the products it produces, and it may or may not be multidimensional. Calling something a sliding scale instead of a degree may be useful for those who prefer the demonstrative, but impossible when we can't find a good quality sliding scale. Saying anything more will thus require us to say a swear word.
If we look at the inside of a house, of one who has the flair for keeping a home, the arrangement of the fittings and furnishings is the first thing that will be noticed. Looking at the inside of a home of one who, after two dozen attempts, got the keeping part right, so long as I stay put, which doubt means the inside looks like a suggestion that I should decide once and for all for the Quaker, I find I'm not enough of a boy and not enough of a girl to do anything about it.
I do consider my creativity to be the girl in me. Painting of the toenails is a very practical thing to do if one is trying to decide between colours. This aspect of me, which looks at bananas as an instance of the colour yellow, and a gift as from God as to what the word eat means, made it clear to me that we had entered a phase such that boys avoided doing the practical thing, because they didn't want girls to laugh at them.
The boy in me looks at speakers that are still sitting on the floor, which would be an opportunity to do dude stuff with dude stuff, which I'll get to as soon as I'm back in the routine of keeping the floors spick-and-span. I was in fact scrubbing the carpet before I started this website, but then I couldn't figure out if the girls were laughing at me (they always put their hand on the bible when you suspect it of them).
The speakers were made by a boy who was neglecting his wife and making her do all the shopping and cooking. But his wife admitted to me that she was no good as a cook to start off with, so we'll say no more about that, or about the convenience of grocery stores in which the pulse of the grocer is muted by tinny music.
Of course, every product must be available in a range of colours; we can at least be thankful that products which might be called a micro-home, for they are used in that way, are not made specially for girls and specially for boys with a genderless phase as of cyclic weather.
Many of these products reject the word quality with as much vehemence as one who bought a lemon and then complained that it wasn't an orange. Some of these products nonetheless have a quality about the appointment of their fittings.
The credit for that last sentence belongs to Mom and Dad. I trust the lead-up to it is okay.