In my working-class hamlet of Beacon, N.Y., the houses sit cheek to jowl. The yards are only about one-third of an acre each in this part of town. My husband and I bought our house after living in an apartment, so the coziiness normally doesn’t bother us. Having said that, I was awakened from an afternoon nap by the sounds of screaming from a nearby home.
This marital spat wasn’t about another woman, the husband not picking up his dirty socks (something Barack Obama is apparently guilty of), or the wife going on a secret shopping spree. “If you ever bring my car back on empty after borrowing it, don’t bother to come home,” she yelled. “I don’t have enough money to fill it up and I’ve got to go to work.”
Has it come to this?
Groffoto has another take on this subject. Here’s the link: http://groffoto.wordpress.com/2008/06/12/rv-for-free/
Don’t let my husband see that photo. We’ll be living in that RV before you know it!