Bungalow

I
scroll,
scroll,
scroll
through the Internet looking at pictures and advertisements as we try to find a place to live.

We moved to the east coast well over a year ago and have been in “temporary” housing ever since (actually, we’ve been in temporary housing from the day we married, but that’s another story).

When it comes to real estate, nothing feels right. Squeezing into a small apartment doesn’t make sense because we’re hoping to start a family. Yet a house in the suburbs doesn’t feel right either – not quite my style.

“I need a place to live that is semi-artsy,” I tell Ron. “Like a . . . bungalow. Hey, let’s rent a bungalow!”

“You’re a bungalow,” Ron says.

(According to Ron I’m also a cricket, a shea nut, and a punkin’)

“I am not. What exactly is a bungalow?” I ask.

He shrugs. “To me it’s code word for small.”

Smaller than a house, bigger than an apartment, and artsy. Also, they remind me of my favorite place -- California.

A bungalow in Washington DC . . . now that’s an interesting combination. It just might work.