Patti and I are now the proud owners of a gorgeous two bedroom, two full bath home. It was originally built in the late 1940's, but completely renovated three years ago, from the shingles right down to the floor joists. As much as I hated playing tug o' price with the seller, I would have gladly paid “plus one” to her infinity.

Aside from being cuter than a first home should, you can't beat living one block from a rail station and two blocks from a new mega-development with Target, Lowes, Barnes & Noble, Swampy Matthew's Clock Face Outlet, Best Buy, Churro Hut, and Kroger. Oh my, this home is even perfect for Daisy, who gains a giant, fenced backyard to run around in circles and generally shit all over.

Do you understand? We've got mortgage payments and a lawnmower. We're grown ups, damn it! No longer must we:

* Wash dishes by hand.
* Spend two hours with strangers and their seven kids when washing our clothes.
* Be cooled one room at a time by a moldy window unit.
* Wait two minutes for the hot water to peak at lukewarm.
* Wake up at 8am to walk the dog since now she has a doggie door.
* Smell like a bar due to the chain smoker downstairs.
* Wait for one of us to take out his/her contacts so that the other can spit out toothpaste. The new master bath has two sinks, greedy!
* Get honked at by Mexicans daily while waiting for the bus (this happens to Patti slightly more often).
* Stifle orgasms because we share walls with assholes who host video game parties until 6am.
* Have the heat or conditioned air escape through windows that don't shut or doors that aren't weather-stripped.
* Spy on our neighbors that have sex with the blinds open… wait…