I Pee Alone

No way. Just no...friggin'...way.

Ever had a day that wakes you up to the unpleasant realities of life?
We went house hunting yesterday. We're considering moving out of the rural town where we live (pop. 2,500) and flinging ourselves at the mercy of the humming metropolis we like to call "Winston-Salem."

So we drove around some neighborhoods. Found one very nice area where we decided we could live. Never mind that it's way out of our price range. As Scarlett says, "I can't think about that today. I'll think about that tomorrow."

One of the homes was having an open house so we went in. Downstairs okay, nothing great. House is older and needs work...bad carpet, no closet space, paneled (God save us) living room. Bad but, you know, salvageable.

Then we entered the master bedroom. My husband I took one look and just burst out laughing, regardless of the realtor below (who I now feel really, really sorry for) and the other people touring the house. "Good luck moving this one," was our response.

Here's the deal. The master bedroom and master bath shared a wall. Only instead of a solid wall, there was a huge arch cut out of 3/4 of the wall next to the garden tub. I suppose the romantic ideal of the genius who envisioned this set-up was that the lady of the home would soak in sweet-smelling bubble baths while keeping the man of the house, as seen snuggled in bed through the huge arch in the wall, happy.

Fine. EXCEPT, you could see more than the tub. In fact, anyone actually in any portion of the master bedroom would have front row seats to observe anyone using the toilet and accompanying bidet.

It was the most God-awful set-up I've ever seen. Because the thing was, the toilet and bidet were in the center of the bathroom! Picture a rectangular room. On one long wall is the tub and the other long wall is empty. A door is one of the short walls and the other short wall is empty. The toilet and bidet are several feet in from the short wall and basically cozy up next to the tub. I don't think so.

Here's the best part. This relationship nightmare of a house was listed at $600,000. Please. You couldn't pay me $20k to take it off your hands.

So we had a good laugh. But it does show that location is key. The house will probably sell close to that just because it's in the best part of Winston, convenient to everything.

I wish we could pick our house up and move it. We will never, ever, ever come close to matching its size and beauty and I hyperventilate at the thought of leaving my newly remodeled kitchen (We don't cook, but it's fun to stand in there and pretend that we do).

So we're slowly easing into the idea of downsizing. But I draw the line at an open border bathroom.

I pee alone.