Ally's dream house

I never had a Barbie. It’s true. When we were little, my sister and I had a set of Charlie’s Angels action figures, (she always insisted on being Kelly), so imagine my joy when I learned my friend Charity had Barbies. And Kens. And…

A Barbie Dream House.

Holy freaking cow, it was such a monumental occasion that to this day I vividly remember sitting on her bedroom floor playing with it, thinking someday I want to have one of these.

Of course at the time I meant a Barbie Dream House, but now I’m aiming bigger. Much bigger.

As my freakishly-large family gets ready to gather for all the holiday madness, I find myself thinking about that Barbie Dream House and hoping for the day when I’ll have one. Only big enough to live in.

And the longer I dream about it, the more specific the dream gets:

It will have a double oven.

And an enormous screen-in-porch where all the men can stand around with their hands on the hips of their Wranglers and talk about how we sure could use a rain.

And a section near—but not in—the kitchen for a little refrigerator and an icemaker, so that people looking for drinks will stay out of my way.

While I bake things in my double oven.

And there will be a warming drawer where I’ll put things after someone comes in and says, “oh, can I put my (pie/casserole/dip/rolls) in the oven for a little while”, and I’ll say yes, because I was expecting this when I built Ally’s Dream House and the dream house will not disappoint.

And there’s a room with a big flat-screen TV where all the non-Wrangler men are watching football, and this room has big, wide sliding pocket doors that we can close if the men get too loud.

And the main room is huge, and two stories tall, with a curving staircase that’s lined with garland and lights, and the focal point of the room is a fireplace that my Uncle Harold insists on stoking every five minutes so that we move some things from the warming drawers to the living room because it’s actually hotter in there.

And between the living room and the screen-in-porch is the dining room, even though it’s not really a room, because in Ally’s Dream House, walls are really only necessary for bedrooms and bathrooms, and everything else is open.

And I’ll buy a gorgeous antique buffet to place opposite the fireplace in the dining area, and that’s where we’ll put all the desserts—not on the washer and dryer like we usually have to do at family functions.

And the main feature of the kitchen is a bar that’s at least twelve feet long, and it has electrical outlets so that we can plug in the crock pots and electric skillets.

While the cooks are cooking, the “are you sure we can’t help you do anything”ers will sit at the bar where they are both out of the way and still a part of the action.

Then the turkey will come out of the double oven and I’ll go to the screened-in-porch to tell my dad that he’s going to have to leave the Wrangler men long enough to come in and carve it.

And then the Wrangler men will come in from the porch and the non-Wrangler men will come in from the TV room and we’ll all stand around while Daddy says grace, and then we go through a buffet that’s lined up on the bar, and everyone will eat.

Then, if it’s Christmas, someone will hide all the wood or at least keep Uncle Harold busy (mostly likely by breaking something), and then the living room will cool down enough so that we can all gather in there and do our gift exchange.

Some people will sit on the leather couches.

A couple will sit on the bench of the Grand Piano (because even though I can’t play the piano, the Dream House is totally going to have one.)

And a lot of people will sit on the spiraling staircase or the barstools from the kitchen because there’ll probably be at least 40 family members in attendance and we all know that the gift exchange will get dirty and you totally want a good seat.

So this is the house. It doesn’t exist yet, but hopefully someday will. And the only way it will happen is if I work hard and well.

And so that’s why I won’t be going home for this Thanksgiving.

In hopes that someday I’ll be able to host the next one.

Happy Holidays, everyone,
Ally