Party at my place…maybe?

So we drove out to White Rock yesterday to view this. Summed up it’s a beautiful, tiny (9000 sq. ft) lottery home worth a mere $3.5 million.

I love a good showhome…it’s probably the fascination with the beautiful CLEAN, NEW, GORGEOUS interiors, where you know a perfect little family is going to make their home, raise their kids, have wonderful little dinner parties and backyard barbeques…sans “evil granny” or any of her filth…oh how I crave that!

Anyway, when we win it…which we will (I’m covering my ears now…you can’t take away my dreams…la, la, la, la, la, la, can’t hear you!). As I was saying, when we win it AND before we sell it, we’re having a knock-out kegger-poker-muchboozeandschmooze party so all of our friends can come over and oogle at our ocean view, butler pantry, stadium sized guest bathroom and master suite that, on its own, wouldn’t fit in our 2,000 sq. ft. home. BUT…BUT!!! in order to sell this fine property at a premium, we have decided that the ropes blocking most of the room entrances will remain in place (no, just like the people who toured our fine home, you also will not be allowed to perch on the furniture!). Hey, I have big plans for that 3.5 million…plan numero uno being getting “evil granny” her own home, far, far away from mine…I’m currently shopping around for the perfect fridge box.

But just so ya’ll know you’re invited to the party…and now you have the address.

…back to our adventure…

So we arrive (54 minute drive) and score a parking spot right outside the door (Kostanza!!!), take off our shoes on the front porch and walk into the biggest, most pretentious, Taj-mahal-esque foyer we’ve ever seen. We walk exactly four miles and turn right into the dining room (think I saw Queen E at the other end of the table…couldn’t tell though, she was just a speck at that distance). From there we crossed the gymnasium sized hallway to the BUTLER’s PANTRY (cause my butler’s waiting in the car) that’s easily the size of my own kitchen.

It’s at this point that Budgie announces that he has to pee. Yes, you heard it here first…the boy had to pee. In the middle of my drooling over 6 inch deep baseboards and pillows that matched the candles that matched the toilet paper…the boy had to pee! (how many times do I tell him to go before we leave…how many times!) For anyone that has, or has had, a 7 year old BOY you are well aware that this species cannot hold it for more than about 10 seconds. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!

Of course the lottery ticket salesman sitting behind the bar (your favourite pub is nothing compared) was no help…no, we couldn’t use any of the toilets (all oh…9 of them!) and no, they had nowhere for the public to use the facilities. Short of asking him where the lottery staff went pee-pee, instead I huffed away and requested that Cheap Bastard take Budgie outside to water a tree…no go, Cheap Bastard would have none of it. Instead, we had to run through the entire remaining 8,500 square feet of house at a sprinter’s pace viewing the Olympic sized kitchen, three living rooms, den, mudroom, two staircases (back and front!), three bedrooms (with their own bathrooms!), master suite-stadium and an extra conference room-sized palace on the third floor that was oddly void of furniture…actually, I think the furniture suppliers of Vancouver were tapped out from outfitting the rest of the house. Oh and screw the ocean view! I only read about that on the website…I didn’t get to see it with my own eyes. I know the house definately had windows, but I didn’t get to stop and look out of any of em.

We vaulted out to the porch, slipped our feet into some shoes (sorry if those were your size 8 Nikes), dashed to the van (gave up that parking spot…sniff!) and blew out of that street like bank robbers after a foiled hold-up…and I sulked and sniffed and whined…”God, what a stupid craptacular life we have. We drive for an hour to get here. An hour! Then we spend under five minutes looking at the place. Kids! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!!”

We pull up to a stand of trees and Budgie gets out to pee…and instead of getting out with him Cheap Bastard yells from the van:

“Budgie! Go further into the trees! No, no don’t stop there. We can still see you! Behind that tree over there! Oh forget it…”

Budgie stands out in the open, unzips and lets loose a stream…and pees, and pees, and pees…for like five minutes! Then he turns his head and gives us the most adorable “look at how much I’m peeing” giggle-smile…

…and I think, “oh my craptacular life…who would trade this?”

Desperate to be a Housewife

Time until I’m back with my family: 2 hours, 50 minutes AND my brother Freddie Fortine is coming home from Kingston where he’s stationed…yaaaahooo!!!

Laundry List: Way too much left from the weekend…maybe my butler will do it.


One response to this post.

  1. Heh. Of COURSE they wouldn’t let you use the bathroom, because then you’d see the giant mold monster that was causing them to give the house away.

    Just kidding.

    Really funny story. I discovered long ago that no supermarket employee will ever stop you from using the bathroom (at least in the US), and supermarkets are our family’s default public restroom now (soooo much cleaner than the ones in gas stations).

    Good luck with the lottery!

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