Who remembers the children’s book, Are You My Mother, about the baby bird who ricochets around the feet of all the barnyard mothers in his quest to find his own mother?
That’s how Bossy feels these days — except she’s not looking for a mother, she’s looking for home.
As some of you may remember, Bossy and her Unhusband are in the throes of an Undivorce, where throes equals trying not to throw things.
Bossy kids! Everything has been going fine, if not a bit confused by the fact Bossy spends quite a bit of time living in the Bossy family house with her Unhusband. It’s hard to explain. So Bossy will try.
In theory, Bossy lives at her mom’s house one block away, in a sweet little room that is less a room than it is a bassinet located inches from her sleeping mother’s elbow:
But it’s not the size of Bossy’s new room — or the lack of size — that presents the problem. Rather, it’s other issues Bossy is not at liberty to discuss. In English.
In addition, Bossy’s son has been living at home since the holidays, and so Bossy and her brood have been using this gift of time under one roof to establish a family bond that does not have a marriage at the root of it.
But lately Bossy has been doing a lot of thinking about separation. The inconvenient thing about that word is that it implies one actually has to separate.
Ultimately Bossy would love to have a separate home in the housing rotation which offers more autonomy, a home that wasn’t the Bossy family house but maybe wasn’t her bassinet either.
Unfortunately there are quite a few issues with this notion. Namely, money wrapped with dollar signs inside currency.
Still, Bossy can’t help eyeing up various housing situations within proximity to her family and wondering, Are you my home?
Shall we take a tour?
Bossy always heard the above shingled house contained apartments. If so, Bossy will take the one with the bank of south-facing windows, please. Assuming the monthly rent coincides with Bossy’s available spending money: $27.
Next up is this house:
Bossy thinks she remembers this house is owned by a cute woman who lives there but also rents a part of it out to tenants. Bossy would love to live in this house with the cute woman, but only if Bossy and the cute woman could sit on the front porch with their glasses of wine.
And right next door to this house is Bossy’s next option that isn’t really an option:
As sweet as it looks from the outside, Bossy hasn’t heard the best reports about the condition of these apartments inside. Still, Bossy thinks the little balcony apartment would be nice if she could sit out there with her evening martini:
Which brings Bossy to the next apartment house, which Bossy has always had a crush on because it reminds Bossy of a waspy getaway she once had in Kennebunkport Maine:
But the apartments in this house have always been wait-listed, which gives Bossy the impression they are not available for Bossy’s $27 a month.
So let’s move on to the next possibility that isn’t a possibility:
In Bossy’s neighborhood there are a handful of apartments located above stores, as suggested by the above photo. And these apartments are totally suitable. If you are a college student with very low standards and milk crates as drawers.
So Bossy will continue the search with this:
The above are typical, shady garden apartments around a central courtyard. The cluster is named something along the lines of Dartmouth Court, but since the apartments are often rented by freshly divorced people, Bossy refers to the place as Divorce Court.
Let’s keep moving:
Bossy knows her neighborhood is crawling with houses too big for its occupants — you know, assuming houses crawled.
Bossy wishes she could appropriate just a small section of one of these grand houses, in exchange for jokes told or maybe pig latin tutoring:
Such is also the case with the following house:
Next up we have this house, which does not contain apartments and is not for rent, but Bossy just thinks it’s really funny!
And then there are the places that aren’t really livable but Bossy wants to live in them all the same:
And lastly, there’s this little number:
But unlike the high rise Bossy grew up in, Bossy thinks this condominium requires you to have an AARP card.
Of course, by the time Bossy saves up enough money for any kind of rent, she just may have one.