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Since this blog was active, we moved overseas and back again. Now you can read about the boogers' latest adventures at www.boogersabroad.com.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Why I don’t deserve a vacation home

Today I got a $100 check in the mail. Bummer!! It was my returned entry fee for an essay contest for a house - yes, a real house. I read about it in the paper, how a couple invested in property but with the economic downturn, they just wanted to be rid of these extra six houses. They researched several options and decided to go with an essay contest.

But alas, after extending the deadline a couple times, they still didn't get the minimum number of entries they were hoping for. So I thought I'd at least share my essay here.

The assignment was a 200-word essay, and one of the possible topics was, "Why I deserve a vacation home." I decided to get creative (hey, I needed to stand out, this was for a house!), so I wrote, tongue-in-cheek, about why I don't deserve one.

Why I don’t deserve a vacation home

Dearest Vacation Home, it’s with a heavy heart that I must declare our love affair is over before it’s even begun. But find solace in knowing it’s me, not you. I simply don’t deserve you.

Because of me, you’d end up stinking like burnt popcorn and overdone sugar cookies. I’d selfishly poke your walls with rusty nails to hang my family portraits. And that’s only the beginning! My husband would tickle your gutters and scrape ice from your sidewalks. With his handyman ways, he’d jiggle your toilets and rattle your plumbing, knock at your rafters and stomp on your roof.

And then comes the sticky, slimy wild-boys, always on our tail. They’ve never met a door they wouldn’t slam or a carpet they couldn’t stain. With their Thomas the Train sneakers, they’ll trample your flowers and climb your trees. They’ll even graffiti your driveway with crude drawings and lopsided hopscotchs!

I would have liked to get to know you, Dear Vacation Home, but surely you can see that you’re better off without us. Just know that you’re something I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of – and I’ll forever look back and yearn for you, wondering what might have been.