While it’s a lovely event, the annual Parade of Homes can intimidate. All that beautiful new furniture and cabinetry. Those ingenious floor plans blissfully free of clutter. And light … so much light. Upon returning home to the deeply imperfect domicile where one actually lives, there’s an understandable temptation to reach for a gas can and a match.
Stop! To counter a community-wide buildup of unreasonable expectations, I’m featuring this floor plan of my personal signature home. Think of it as the final stop on Parade of Homes, the one that reminds you that while a lucky few awaken each day in House Beautiful, the rest of us just want to know where the ants are coming from.
SECOND FLOOR
A – Secret electronic communications bunker disguised as teen bedroom. Also equipped with Personal Fashion Warehouse and Nail Polish Annex. Restricted area.
B – Pre-Teen bedroom from prestigious Hurricane Floyd Collection. Revolutionary “floor closet” erases traditional barriers between “clean” and “dirty” garments.
C – UN-enforced DMZ.
D – Rarely-offered guest bedroom with Peek-a-boo Luggage Avalanche Closet.
E – Kids’ bathroom: Antique distressed swabs and colorful gobs of dried gook enhance this posh comfort station.
F, G – Master suite featuring huge wade-in closet and Scald-Rite Shower Blast when toilet is flushed.
MAIN FLOOR
H – Powder room: Dual action toilet/canine hydration station with insufficient fan.
I – Laundry room. Never been in it. Not sure what it’s for.
J – Mud room: Wow unexpected drop-ins with this imaginative tangle of shoes, backpacks, unpacked lunch boxes, band instruments, dog food and, yes, mud.
K, L – Pottery Barn Fuzzy Toddler Chairs commandeered by pet Chihuahuas. Worn, stained and redolent of canine effluvia.
M – “Nice” living room. Never used.
N – Time-Warner Pixelation Enjoyment Center.
BASEMENT
O – Man Cave with Mystery Allergen Storage Area. If there’s a dead rodent in the walls, you’ll smell it here first. Old tuba.
P – Children’s Play Room, (abandoned circa 2010).
Q – High-tech Euro-flush toilet (reach into tank, pull string).
The Kramer Signature Home isn’t just alluring to humans. Approximately eight years ago it was invaded by multiple flying squirrels (initially mistaken for large mice, then bats). How or why they entered, or if they plan to return, isn’t known, adding to the intrigue of this four-bedroom charmer.
Email Jeff Kramer at [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter at @JKintheCuse.
