Homes for the Holidays 2010

Saturday was our annual fund raiser for the Early Childhood PTA. The premise is a homes tour, and we try to have the home owners matched with decorators to create "holiday" themes in the homes to get people into the Christmas spirit....yada, yada, yada.

Basically, we coerce six to eight home owners into letting people trample through their homes and suffer the degradation of people criticizing them for the smallest of defects. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, because the majority of people do make positive comments, but I'm always amazed out what comes out of people's mouths.)

I volunteer to stand in a home for a few hours to make sure the old ladies don't steal anything and nobody uses the tour home toilets.

I was in a very nice home built in 2000 where my only two criticisms were:

1. The builder did not lay their sub-flooring correctly on the second floor. Every step you took would creak and give with your feet. Although maybe the owners requested this so they always knew when their kids were sneaking out. I don't know. All I know is that my parents built their house in the 1980s and it does not make those noises.

2. I spent all three hours staring at a large ridge in the carpeting that ran the length of the bedroom, because it had not been stretched properly. I'm sure they didn't install it like that, but it had obviously been there a long time.

Now I challenge you to come into my home and have only two criticisms.

As far as other people's opinion...

"Is this the master bedroom?" Well, it has a king-sized bed and his/her closets and built-in dressers, so yes. Followed by either, "Then where is the master bathroom?" or "Then why are there stuffed animals on the bed?"

It's not so much that they asked about the master bath, it was the way they asked. Like they were appalled that a master bedroom wouldn't have it's own bath. So apparently, my house (built in 1920 and therefore unencumbered by the need to have tubs big enough in which to swim and toilets close enough one doesn't have to strain their muscles to get to them) would not pass the test.

On top of it, when they were shown the door to said bath, they were equally appalled that the home owners had closed it off for the day. Do you really need to see where people void their bowels??? I appreciate an aesthetically pleasing bathroom as much as the next person, but let's really think about what you are asking to look at, people.

As for the stuffed animals, they were clearly part of the Christmas decor, placed against the throw pillows on the bed. It's not like they were being snuggled up to in bed at night. What is the big deal? I cannot even tell you how many people made that comment, though. It was unfathomable to me.

Note to my mother: if people tour your home they will apparently think no adults live there, since there are teddy bears in every room.

"See how this vaulted ceiling makes the room so much more capacious?" I'm not kidding. That is a quote from one of the few men I saw on the tour...I wasn't even sure it was a word. I had to look it up. What's wrong with the word spacious? It's a perfectly acceptable word.

There was a lot of interest in the home owner's wedding picture that was hanging on the wall, the sentiment ranging from "Oh, isn't that a beautiful dress" to "Wow, she was clearly married in the 80's". (I was of the latter contingent.)

The general consensus was that the built-in dressers seemed very convenient, but they must not be planning to move ever, since they clearly wouldn't be able to take those with them. Umm...they have these things called stores where you can purchase furniture that one doesn't currently own or needs to replace. I think they'll be okay and there is no need to pigeonhole them into the house for all eternity.

One final note. I hate the smell of vanilla air fresheners, stemming from a long ride back to college with someone who felt the need to have 5 of them hanging from their rear view mirror. So of course the room I am assigned to is burning a vanilla candle. Just another day in the life.