April 23, 2012 by Rebekah Newman
The house hunt is in full swing. Last weekend we went to 12 open houses and if that doesn’t seem like a lot, you probably haven’t looked for a house recently. With all the rooms and details of each house, it’s difficult to take in each one.
We practically ran every where we went for several hours. We parked the car in front of the house, jumped out, ran up the sidewalk, walked through the door and immediately spread out. My husband headed toward the bedrooms, I went toward the kitchen, my son checked the backyard and my little one mostly touched their breakable stuff in whatever room he happened into.
Then we met back in the middle of the house, usually in front of a baffled real estate agent, and compared notes….
Were there enough bedrooms? Check.
Was the kitchen updated? Check.
Did the bedrooms have closets? Debatable.
Was the utility room big enough for something larger than Barbie’s washer and dryer? (Just kidding, ha ha ha, can you see Barbie washing clothes? There is a dissertation in there somewhere.) Check.
Were the appliances put in after the Civil War? Check.
Did you see colored shag carpeting anywhere? Negative.
Did anyone notice any hideous pink wallpaper? No. (You’d be surprised at how often the answer is yes.)
Was there more than one bathroom? Check.
And the final and most important question… for the million bucks… can you tell me…
Is there a treehouse tree?
We would stare at my son, even shushing the agent if she was babbling on about foundation whats-its and neighborhood nosey’s, in anticipation of his answer. What would it be? The final peg. Would it work?
No? Cross it off the list and move on.
Yes? Write down maybe and move on.
A Treehouse Tree is a large tree in the backyard that would be suitable for holding a small shackled dwelling similar to a house in that it has four walls. It’s a tree that my son and I (with a whole lot of technical help from my husband) will use to design and build our most fantastic, awesome treehouse, after we move. It will create Norman Rockwell-ish memories and make my son never want to move away.
We have been wanting a treehouse since he was 2 and I whispered it into his ear every night, over and over again, as he fell asleep. Which works by the way. He believes the idea is completely his own, and he also thinks it’s the best idea ever, which of course, it is. Score! (Although, I’ve tried the same thing on my husband, replacing the word “treehouse” with “jewelry” for years and so far, zilch.)