When I was growing up, my best friend lived across the street. I was at his house all the time. I ate peanut M&M’s there. I watched tapes of David Letterman there. I flipped through baseball cards there.
However, I was not in the living room.
Actually, the living room was a museum. You could not touch anything! We weren’t allowed to sit on the couches. Ever. It simply was a passageway to move from upstairs to downstairs and vice versa.