Funny thing: Buying a house. It’s not like buying a new shirt or a new car. It’s more like going to the dentist, having a tooth pulled, and being told all you need is “the gas” and you’ll remember nothing.
(Incidentally, I did that last week, too.)
Or maybe it’s more like courting a lady; A lady who plays hard to get and toys with your emotion. She gets you all hot and bothered and then backs away and it requires three cold showers to get back to thinking of anything except her, only to have her email you with some great news and get the process started all over again.
Or maybe it’s like buying a house.
I don’t know.
At any rate, our house is officially ours. We’ve stepped inside only three times total since October 11, the day we made the offer, but stepping inside last night felt wildly familiar. The smell is familiar. The house has memories of ours in it already, memories we have not even made.
Last night we started making our fresh new memories with some of our favorite people.
The house is already home to our first pizza picnic. It’s home to our first hosted dinner. It’s home to the first playdate with our children and their best friends.It’s home to hide and seek and laughter. It’s home to friends helping with house-repairs and it’s home to that time we had no heat and tried to build a fire only to find out we suck at building fires.
It’s home. Already? It is home.