• ✓A room is not a room because of its shape but because of what happens in it — so the empty spaces are labelled with what goes on there, never with a name
• ✓“Where the food gets made” · “Where the day ends” · “Where your hands are allowed to get covered in paint” — the child reads the happening and finds the room, which is what the word room actually means
• ✓The verifier refuses any clue that contains the room's own name — that is a label, not a clue, and it leaves nothing to work out
• ✓The floor matters too: kitchens and living rooms downstairs, bedrooms up — a child who notices has read a floor plan without being told that is what they were doing
• ✓Drag or tap, both. The drag is what was asked for; the tap is there because a small finger covers the very picture it is moving, and a drag ending four pixels outside a slot does nothing at all, which reads as the game being broken
• ✓A room in the wrong place is not an error: it comes back to the hand and the house says what that room is for — the clue again, in the room's own words
• ✓Not one new picture: every room is a painted stage plate that already exists and is already used elsewhere — the kitchen from the cleaning game, the calm corner from body-feelings, the craft table, the study
• ✓Putting them in one house is the first time those rooms have been shown as one place, which is what they always were
• ✓Play-tested at 390px: a wrong drop explains instead of scolding, the house completes by tapping, and dragging genuinely lands a room in a slot — no overflow, no console errors

✓ = done · ☐ = planned. Every game is built one step at a time like this.