lie just a little

Dear Everyone:

If you should ever wake up one morning and hear a crazy man on a bullhorn yelling at you and your family from your front yard, telling you to pack up and get ready for a week's vacation and a makeover of your crappy, crappy house, do me a favor.

Shed a tear.

I really like watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I really don't like when the family recieves their FREE HOUSE and walks through it as if they were inspectors: "Hm. Would you look at that." "My, that's nice." "Oh, wooooooooooooooow."

Are you kidding me?

Let's review. You, in all your squalor, took it upon yourself to borrow someone's video camera (because you don't have your own, right? Take it from me, if there are wires hanging from your living room ceiling that you need to touch together to make the lights come on - don't get buzzed! - you can't afford a camcorder) and show ABC the sad state in which you live (and I don't mean Iowa). Your hope was that someone would take pity on your situation and give you something...anything...LIKE A NEW HOUSE. And guess what? They showed up. They picked you, they showed your movie to the crying design team, and decided to send you to Orlando for a week (at no cost to you, I presume). Now, maybe you thought you were getting a back porch and a Florida Room added on. But, then again, you're no dummy - you've watched the show before. You know that they're going to deem your abode a sty and knock it down. What will they put in its place? A similar-sized home? Nay. A freakin' mansion, as far as you're concerned. With actual furniture. New furniture. And fireplaces. And kitchens out of magazines. And fairy-tale bedrooms, complete with actual fairies. Huge televisions. Bidets. Elevators. Bedroom sets. Did I mention ELEVATORS?????

And that's just inside. Outside, they install your pool, and your batting cages, and your swingsets, and your tennis courts. They professionally design your landscaping. They till your fields and plant your alfalfa. They fill your garages with free vehicles.

That's not all.

While you're schmoozing with Minnie & Mickey, they also raise money through a benefit concert for you, set up a trust for your kids' college, and pay off your mortgages.

You arrive home in a limo to the welcoming fiasco of your entire neighborhood and then some. Together with your family, you shout, "MOVE THAT BUS!", and, viola.

Here's where we need some direction. I want to see the kids jumping up and down, or running around in the street. I want to see high-5s and cartwheels. I want to see parents crumbling in thankful humility for what they've just been given. Most of all, I want to see tears. I do NOT want to see, "Oh, my. That is a nice house."

Now, I realize that some of you may be thinking, "Well, some people just don't cry." Bull. I don't care. If I'm crying, they should be. I know that a new house is not the answer to all the world's problems, but if you get one, a huge, new house, for free, show us that we're all on the same page.

Cry a little. For me.