or, My Thought Evolution on the Most Embarrassing Room in My Childhood Home

We didn’t have a shower, but we did have a Dead Animal Room. So, you know, lose-lose.

It wasn’t always called the Dead Animal Room. I heard the words “the den” bandied about, but it was far less like my image of a den (dark wood, leather arm chair, books) than it was like an ingredient pantry for Macbeth’s witches.

“The Gun Room” was a much more commonly used moniker, owing to the fact that most of my dad’s 20 or so…