Mini Mansion Tour…Hot Mess Style

Because 5 days a week wasn’t enough of our time spent doing something soccery (it’s a new word, look for it in Websters), we were invited to an end of year soccer party to celebrate P’s team since they would be ripped away from each other next season thanks to a retarded new age rule thanks to the soccer association. Yeah, you know who you are.

I have Colonel Sanders as my GPS voice and I think he was 1 tender short of a basket because as he announced in his deep Southern accent we had arrived at our destination, we found ourselves in the middle of the country, next to a pond. Cue the crickets…..

Not wanting to give up on my finger lickin’ friend, I broke rank and continued to drive straight. Suddenly the Colonel got his wits about him and 7 minutes later I’m slamming on my breaks in recognition of an address on a grey mailbox.  I held out my mom belt (my hand) so my husband didn’t go through the windshield. You know what’s funny? My children have NEVER sat in the front seat until about 1 month ago when P broke my spirit and I gave up arguing with him so there has been no reason to be a seat belt.

“Good save.” My husband said, somewhat annoyed.

Just then I got a glimpse of the house, “I see a pillar….oh Lord….I see 2 pillars.” This was all while driving a winding road with ample land on each side. I looked to my right to see a Brutus the Buckeye sculpture made from a tree.

‘Holy shit, these people are loaded,’ I thought.

And there it was, a beautiful brick home done in a Georgian style architecture, complete with grand white pillars. A three car garage was on the left and because we are obnoxious, 3 minutes early and the first ones there, I did a 180 with my car and parked on the far end of the parking area, somewhat in the grass because you know what happens. You go to leave only to find 2 cars have you blocked in and now you wonder around asking 50 drunk people, “is that your Cherokee out there?”

So let me walk you through the house that most of us will never have. The garage doors are up and there is a full, restaurant size glass refrigerator stocked with water, all sorts of beer, white wine and Korbel champagne. What sort of po’dunk establishment is this? Where is the Cristal Champagne?

We moved from the mudroom to the kitchen and Jesus! The island was about 6′ long, all granite. Instinct took over and I immediately spied the granite ledge holding several bottles of Francis Ford Coppola Cabernet. Other perks I will probably never see: one of those hot water faucets, not a typical faucet, I have running water people. No, I’m talking the kind with instant boiling water for tea? I don’t know because again, I’ve never had it. Over the stove was an enormous, cream color hood that stretched several feet into the air.

I walked on to the covered porch from the kitchen. There was a modern L-shaped sofa, a table that sat 4, a ceiling fan and lastly a 40″ flat screen. Fresh pink and white peonies effortlessly lay in a crystal vase on the table. Looking on to the grounds (isn’t that what rich people call their land? Grounds?) I wondered how much land they actually had. Just then the mistress of the home came out waiving her hands dismissively.

“Sorry there aren’t any screens. They were supposed to do it this week but then we got it confused with the landscapers and you know,” she said trailing off.

Totally understood her problems, why we have a pot smoking drop out mow our lawn for 20 bucks a week.

I just smiled as if I completely understood a problem such as this and changed the subject.

“So how much land do you have? It really is beautiful!”

“Thank you. Well, see past the garden and the soccer field?”

“Yes.”

“Well, our neighbor owns past that but in all, we have 7 acres.”

“Nice,” I said again acting what it’s like to own more than .47 acre.

I could go on and on but why? I need to get off my pleather love seat to get a glass of black box wine.

So what is the coolest house you’ve ever been in? What was it like? The one above was in my top 10 for sure.