Last night we found the most dreamy home in the world. It was, much like Mary Poppins herself, practically perfect, perfectly practic, practically perfect in every way. We'd seen it online and I'd merely hoped, but the minute we pulled up, I was certain -- this was my little heaven.
Of course, we aren't really technically looking to buy a house right yet, or maybe we are, it is sort of unsaid at present. Still, houses are out there -- I mean you can't go a block with out seeing houses, and a good pair of eyes certainly must look (though actually, my eyes can't technically be considered a good pair since with out my contacts I am a bumbling, stumbling idiot).
Anyway, this house was somehow boxed in the middle of an area of normal new homes -- which to me means, other kids for my kids to play with. Only it was a sprawling acre completely and privately surrounded by trees. We spotted where it must be from far down the road because we could see the lush square of trees in the middle of all these other homes. The yard was perfect, the house was -- although perhaps a tiny bit small for a family who seems to be on their way to having 300 children, as Mike and I seem -- darling. It was only ten or so years old, but looked like a big well cared for cottage. It was actually, unbelievably, in our price range (well -- not exactly . . . but maybe . . . in the range of our price range? Surely they'd negotiate). There was a firepit in the backyard, and, just as we arrived, a family was basking in the luxury of their secluded and beautiful backyard. They were roasting marshmallows and laughing with friends as their children ran about happy and carefree nearby.
For some odd reason there was no "For Sale" sign to be seen (I'm sure you all know where this is going), but I wasn't to be deterred. I left Mike and the kids somewhat out of sight in the front yard whilst I boldly went to interrupt the family's joyful party (what party wouldn't be joyful in such a dreamy setting?). I wasn't sure who to head towards or even address in the group, but eventually found myself face to face with one adult. "Sorry to interrupt your party," I said (sure they wouldn't mind at all once they knew I was there to take their home off of their hands), "I just saw your home for sale online, but didn't see a sign out front. It is still for sale, isn't it?"
And then, with no further explanation, he crushingly responded, "No, I'm sorry, it's not." And that was that. I was left to mumble some apology and make my way back to my sad little family to tell them we were homeless, and would likely remain homeless forever now because how could I ever find anything to be as happy with? It would be like if your own Prince Charming died on your wedding day and you were then supposed to just marry the Earl of Someplace or Other. Boring.
We went to one other house after that, it might have been fine. Maybe lovely, but all I could think was, "This is pretty much the worst house ever."