Kina sometimes wonders why we do not own a house, which is reasonable when you understand that she only a passing familiarity with money, real estate, and the notion of a million dollars. So, when passing a cute little pink house in Greenpoint the other day and asking what it might cost for us to move into it, she didn’t understand that 2.7 million dollars worth of real estate is not easily acquired by the average New Yorker on a whim.
Later that day, as we were walking through Brooklyn Bridge Park, she mused out loud that she would get rich just to buy us that house to live in together, and that she reckoned that, on a hot day, you could sell quite a lot of lemonade and slime. Far be it from me to disabuse her of the notion, as long as I can sit in the fabulous sun room out back.
The house entered contract later that evening. Maybe next time, Kina.
dad