The lovely Snapdragon wants a new house and I have no idea how I am going to make her dream come true.
The five-year-old Egg had her nursery school farewell last week and it was a sad affair. There were lots of tears involved.
It was only me, but some of the other parents didn’t take the milestone event too well, either.
Over the weekend, we decided to take a look at the school that Egg will attend next year. She was delighted – they even have chickens that dare to stroll into the quiet streets.
Then I made a huge mistake: “There are a few homes on show in this area today,” I told Snapdragon. “Let’s have a look at the prices and see what they offer.”
She fell in love with the very first place we looked at.
“It’s more than just a step up from our place,” she said.
“Well, okay, two or three steps. But the important thing is that it represents an improvement in life quality. I can walk Egg to school in the mornings. I can take a relaxing stroll with the dogs to fetch her…”
“If we buy this place, we will have to walk everywhere – we won’t be able to afford petrol,” I argued.
“We’ll never fit in. The children in that complex are well behaved and dressed like little ladies. Our Egg’s a bit of a
hooligan.”
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“It’s not a complex,” Snapdragon snapped. “It’s an estate. It will be great for Egg’s education.”
One look at my wild little daughter highlighted her need for finishing, but I doubt that a better complex… er, estate, will be sufficient.
That evening I sat down with my pay slips, bank statements and a calculator. Snapdragon has never complained about our humble little cottage. She has always been content with our aging cars. She probably deserves better. But the money…
It was considerably later when I got into bed. Snapdragon was in that wonderful place between sleeping and being awake.
It wasn’t the right time to tell her we can’t afford her dream home.
“I love you,” she mumbled. I guess I’ll have to go and grovel at the bank manager this week. It’s only money after all.
Who doesn’t love beans on toast every day?
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