Yesterday I got to see my parents’ new house in Jackson for the first time. It’s across town from the house they’re living in now, just on the edge of the city.
And it’s a lovely house, with a gigantic garage and more storage nooks and crannies and closets than I’ve ever seen in any house.
It also has a truly astonishing number of electric outlets in every room. I think we counted up to 13 in the small office room alone; the people who lived there before my parents must have been very forward-thinking in terms of electricity because in most houses I’ve lived in, I have to add a surge protector in every room. Not this house. I’m not sure what they’re going to do with all the extra extension cords and splitters they have, but I won’t feel guilty for borrowing them and never giving any back, because they’re definitely not going to need any.
I’m pretty sure you could run a LAN party in every room in the house except the bathrooms.
My brother and I, both of whom are out of the house, chose "our" rooms in the new house pretty easily and dad told us both about a million times that we were both welcome any time, and that we’d each (of course) get keys to the house.
The kitchen is small, but it has a ton of storage space, a built-in microwave and a built-in spice rack. It also has carpet, which I’m not wild about (ten bucks says I’m the first one to drop a can of tomato sauce on it, mom), but lots and lots of counterspace, which I am wild about, helped by the microwave being up and out of the way. I hate not having enough space to make a really big mess, because usually that’s what you have to do to make anything bigger than a TV dinner.
It’s a great house.
And now, in exchange for the 5-10 times my poor parents have helped me move from dorm room to dorm room and apartment to apartment, I get to help them pack and move into their awesome new house.