It's Me, Sara Louise

As much as I love my cozy little abode with it’s large spiral staircase smack dab in the middle of the living room, I covet the house next door.

It’s old, but not too old, probably about one hundred years. So not old enough to give me the heebie jeebies if I was lucky enough to live there. It’s big with lots of windows and white shutters instead of the usual Provencal mint green or pale purple. And according to The Boyfriend (Boyfriend’s Brother rented it a couple of years ago) it has an atrium and a cave. I’m guessing by cave he actually means basement (unless it does have some sort of bat cave with a butler named Alfred living in it. Now that would be dope).

A young family lives there with an adorable little boy, who I think is about three. He’s the cutest little blonde thing but Fifty barks at him whenever he is outside on his tricycle which makes me feel bad. But I know it’s the trike, not the little boy that Fifty is barking at (Fifty loves children, bikes, like vacuums, freak him out) and I try to tell him that it’s the trike and not him, but he just cocks his head and looks at me funny (much like Fifty does) and I’m sure he’s not understanding my strange accent.

Sidebar – this adorable little boy looks exactly like pictures of The Boyfriend when he was little. And I mean exactly. So much so that I’ve started looking at the mother a little funny at times. Hmmm…

The one odd thing about the house; it has no curtains, not a one. And the shutters are only closed if they are out of town, so usually, they’re wide open. No curtains. Needless to say, anyone on the street can see inside their house. And see the super high ceilings and how great it is, and how much I want to live there. If only I could get them to move (can you sense me hatching a diabolical plan…).

I’ve been wondering what the man that lived there did. He’s home most days and gets a lot of large packages delivered (yes, I’ve turned into that nosey neighbor from Bewitched). But when he’s gone, it’s very early in the morning. So I asked The Boyfriend.

Um, OK.

P.S.

I swear I was only joking about looking at the little boy’s mother funny.

P.S.S.

But not about that diabolical plan part….

P.S.S.S.

Joking!