Castles

They say you never realize how poor you are until you see your home next to a castle, but had you not known the castle was there in the first place your home was your castle.


Growing up I use to remember my Dad driving us around the richer neighborhoods to look at how beautiful their homes were with their perfectly manicured lawns adorned with bundles of brightly colored flowers.  Each bed was laid out the right distance apart where I could see just enough mulch in between. We sat in the car with our faces so close to the window that we could start seeing the windows fog up from our breath.  And as my Dad would drive slowly through, we each stared so hard at the homes to try and keep a constant image in our minds so that we wouldn't forget what rich was as he pulled away.

Not more than a few seconds would go by and we would start throwing out property values.

"I bet that house is on the market for $4.5 million!"
"No way, I bet it's worth $8 million!"
"Well, I was watching something on TV once, and it looks like one of the Dallas Cowboys player lived in something that big and it was like $10 million!"

With this amazement, we would just fall back into our seats in silence wondering if we were going to be living in a home like that when we grow up.

Before I even graduated high school, I lived in about five different homes: a mobile home, two apartments, and two homes in two different cities.  Each home had a story, and each home signified our struggle to get something more the next time.  And since I was 18, I've moved about nine more times and lived in nine different homes.