The Luxury of SpacePosted: November 24, 2009
I have a redheaded stepchild. Only he’s not a redhead: he’s black and furry and has terrible breath. He is my dog, my mutt, my protector, and he’s the best dog ever and totally has your dog beat in the Awesome Dog department. However, I have a short fuse these days, made all the shorter by the two small and demanding people whom I love dearly but would sometimes ship off to a small island in order to simply visit a bathroom sans company. And when I need to blow up, I realize more and more that it’s rebounding on the poor pup, who can’t defend himself verbally but instead slinks off ashamedly to lurk under the bed and write deep entries in his diary about being misunderstood.
A lot of this may have to do with the fact that we live in a not quite one thousand square foot house. The “we” of this family is me, C, the two girls, the dog and two cats. That’s seven living creatures in one small house and at times it feels like I may lose my mind. We love where we live, we love our neighborhood (the bass is kind of killing me, but that’s another story) and we love our house and backyard. We do a lot of “We don’t need more space! We’re minimalists! Let’s be small and leave tiny eco-footprints blah blah blah!” And then I step on the dog, trip on a cat and knock over the water bowl in our One-Butt Kitchen (TM my friend Kim, thanks) and I start to envision becoming either a farmer with 18 acres or else just very, very wealthy. In both scenarios I have a Fifteen Butt Kitchen with many counters, and also a toaster over that was made pre-1994 (and it still works! Point to you, Black and Decker!).
I have so much more to say on this subject, but let’s save it for another time when I have more energy to expound upon the wonder that is our Half-Butt Bathroom, where you can wash your hands WHILE you pee.