Why Every State Needs to Slap Its Name on a Sunroom

Ah, the sunroom. A delightful space where you can bask in natural light without being assaulted by insects, allergens, or the occasional bout of extreme weather. It's a genius invention, really—a room with a lot of windows. But why stop there when you can give it a regional twist?

Enter the "Florida room." Yes, in the great Sunshine State, they took one look at that gloriously bright add-on and said, "This room deserves more than just the term 'sunroom.' Let's give it the name of our entire state, because if we can't brand sunshine, we'll at least brand the place where we soak it up!" And thus, the Florida room was born—because if there's one thing Floridians are good at, it's slapping their state name on everything, right down to a porch with fancy windows.

But don’t think for a second that other states would sit idly by and let Florida have all the fun. No, no, no. Enter the “Carolina room.” Apparently, North Carolinians took one look at Florida’s branding success and thought, “Well, we get sunlight too! And windows! Why should they have all the credit?” So they pulled the ol' copy-paste trick, called it a “Carolina room,” and suddenly, sunrooms weren’t just about sunshine—they were about regional pride.

Because why have a generic “sunroom” when you can make sure everyone knows what state you’re lounging in? I mean, what’s the point of sitting in your climate-controlled glass box if the room’s name doesn’t scream your local geography? After all, those sunny days feel so much more North Carolinian when you're sitting in a room named after Carolina. It's practically patriotic.

But the trend doesn’t stop there. Oh no. I can only imagine the brainstorming sessions happening in real estate offices across the country as we speak:

“Welcome to your new Maine room!” Enjoy the barely visible sunlight through a foggy, snow-covered windowpane, but hey, it’s Maine—it’s supposed to be that way.

“Behold, the Texas room!” Because everything’s bigger in Texas, even the window count. You'll need sunglasses inside.

“And over here, we’ve got the Alaska room!” Mostly for looking at the Aurora Borealis... because you sure as heck won’t be sitting there enjoying sunlight for most of the year.

At this rate, every state will soon have its own personalized sunroom, custom-tailored to its climate and culture. A Wyoming room might come with bonus tumbleweeds blowing by the windows for authenticity, and a Nevada room? Probably complete with extra shades for the desert glare and a slot machine in the corner, naturally.

But let’s face it: We all know where this trend is headed. One day, you'll be trying to sell your house, and you'll proudly boast to the buyer, "This here’s the New Jersey room—it’s like a sunroom but with more attitude and slightly higher property taxes.”

In the end, we’ll all look back at this naming phenomenon and wonder why we ever settled for the boring simplicity of “sunrooms” in the first place. Because clearly, the sun shines differently depending on which state you're in. And if you're not letting the whole neighborhood know exactly where you're enjoying that filtered natural light, are you even really living?