I live in a little house. Normally, this does not bother me. I’ve lived in little houses for most of my adult life, and little houses are much easier to keep clean than big houses, which is a plus when you are your own housekeeper. Which I am.
But last week, we stretched to make room for one more. While my father-in-law is receiving medical treatment in D.C. over the next month (he was recently diagnosed with leukemia), my mother-in-law is staying with us.
And our little house suddenly feels very little.
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