If You Think I’m Weird, You Should Meet My House

Our house has quirks.

You may have thought I covered those in the Psychotic Toilet Set Up, but I hadn’t even begun detailing my home’s “selling points.”

Why not start in the family room.  The floor of this well-loved room is supposedly taken from a 1780s farmhouse.  I spent the first year in our home convinced that I would be the first person in over 200 years who managed to destroy the hearts of pine floor in some attempt to clean/move/organize in it’s general vicinity. Until I realized that the proper translation of owning a 1780s farmhouse floor is: “Welcome to an old floor with giant gaps that better thought of as highways for the insects that used to live in your yard.”

It's like a creepy I-95. With less construction.

Moving on to the hallway, we have a Harry Potter bedroom underneath the stairs that all the neighborhood kids have written their names on. Quaint until we were told during the tour that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WERE WE ALLOWED TO PAINT OVER THE NAMES OF RANDOM KIDS WE DON’T KNOW. But, unless these kids are now wizards, I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing whatever I want with that door.

Scott's in there RIGHT NOW under his Cloak of Invisibility. Ooh. Ah.

We were then told that our living room fireplace was carved by George Washington. In between crossing the Delaware River and running our fledgling country, he carver MY FIREPLACE MANTLE along with 6-17 others.

It just screams GEORGE!

But the oddest is our front door, which wasn’t mentioned or really noted during the tour but has certainly rocked our world since we purchased this house.  The doorknob doesn’t work.  That’s right. It’s decorative.  But the strange hook below it? That’s how we open the door.  Which means every single guest that I have ever had to my home (at least ten people) thought they were trapped FOR LIFE when they attempt to leave. Because who thinks GIANT HOOK. Nobody, that’s who.

Please ignore the doorknob in front of your face.

Of course, the giant hook is locked with a giant skeleton key. DUH.

Um, that doesn't fit on my key chain.

This also means that, when my children decide the irresistible castle key would be perfect for their game of HIDE STUFF SOMEWHERE, we are screwed.

  1. If the front door is locked at the time of its hiding, WE CANNOT USE THE FRONT DOOR. (Oh hi friend! Can you hear me through the door? Please come around to the back. My kids locked us in.)
  2. Which is just slightly better than if the front door was unlocked because then WE HAVE TO GO OUTSIDE, LOCK IT AND COME AROUND TO THE BACK DOOR before we can go to sleep at night.

It was once missing for three days.  I found it in Harry Potter’s bedroom.

I’ve thought about getting a spare, but what is my local hardware shop going to do? Um, castle keys are aisle nine.

So we live among this chicanery. As it should be.

Alex Iwashyna

Alex Iwashyna went from a B.A. in philosophy to an M.D. to a SAHM, poet and writer by 30. She spends most of her writing time on LateEnough.com, a humor blog (except when it's serious) about her husband fighting zombies, awkward attempts at friendship, and dancing like everyone is watching. She also has a soft spot for culture, politics, and rude Southern people who offend her Yankee sensibilities. She parents 2 elementary-aged children, 1 foster baby, 3 cats, and 1 puppy, who are all Southern but not rude. Yet.

17 thoughts to “If You Think I’m Weird, You Should Meet My House”

  1. Your house sounds kind of awesome. But that key? Would have been lost years ago if it were me. Our front door would be useless.

    I’m also the only person on the face of the planet that hates hardwood floors. But I find them to just be fur ball magnets! But perhaps you could just stuff the fur between the gaps in the floors? It’d keep the bugs out. Hmmmm…

  2. Your face in the key picture is priceless. However look on the brightside, the zombies will have a really hard time getting in through your front door, and if they do get in, you can hide in Harry Potter’s Bedroom under your invisibility cloak. You always make me laugh and for that i am grateful.

  3. I love that key!! Of course, I would have definitely lost it by now.
    I am one of those people who push doors when they say pull, so my guess is the little handle things would have driven me insane. I could see myself trying to use the door knob years after moving in.
    Your house definitely has a lot of character, thus a great house for you guys!

  4. Um, your house sounds amazing! Do you ever trick guests into thinking the room under the stairs is your guest room? Because how rude would they be to question it and insult your house? They’d just have to sleep there!

  5. Oh my god that was so hilarious! Yes, your house is a freak of nature. Please tell me you painted over those kids’ names. I’m sorry, but if they loved that so much why in the world did they sell the house and move? Or maybe they are under their invisibility cloaks too – you just pay the mortgage.

  6. I officially LOVE your house. Adore it. I’m serious.

    I grew up in a house built in 1892 that boasted such fun quirks as skeleton keys, walking through a bathroom to get to a bedroom, old bottles and spoons buried in the garden and windows that overlooked the front door. Perfect for water balloons.

    I now live in a house built in 2003. Everything (more or less) works.

    I wish it were a hundred years older.

  7. Awesome house.
    Breezing through your most pleasant narrative, I made a couple of notes.
    1. Back in the 1790’s, witches were pressed under heavy boards way more that they were burned at the stake, Just saying.
    2. Who said you couldn’t erase the children’s names from the room under the stairs? Will the ghosts of all those kids be angered?
    3. I have to get back on this and ask my locksmith buddy, buddy if memory serves your door lock is a “witch’s lock”.
    Hope this helps.
    Toodle-loo.

  8. Love your house! I have a thing for older, quirky homes. Unfortunately, mine is just old. I’ve always been freaked out though, by those little rooms under the stairs. They remind me of a movie I saw when I was younger. . .it was about a mom that locked her son in a hidden room under the stairs. She eventually died and he didn’t know it, cause he was locked in a little room. A new family bought the house and they didn’t know he was still in there and he would spy on them through a little hole he made in the wall. . . um, yea, that would be why I don’t like little rooms under stairs.

  9. Wow, and I thought our house had quirks. Ours is officially 100 years old. There are a couple of doors that still use skeleton keys (not as charmingly huge as yours, of course). Our front door is French style and can only be locked and unlocked from inside. Rendering it completely useless for anything but moving, accepting large deliveries, and a bit of breeze in the summer. Oh. And we have the windows from hell. Have to take the storm window completely out to put in a screen. Only have half of the screens. To top it off? No air conditioning. I did not pick this house.

  10. I grew up in a 1780s old Colonial house. All the interior doors had those latches, no doorknobs at all. None of the outside doors locked – must be because all those skeleton keys were lost forever. When we went on vacation my dad rigged these huge 4×6 boards to wedge the door shut. To this day, I’m not certain how we regained entry. It was a very cool house though. Lots of creepy and it definitely was haunted.

  11. We have a Harry Potter room under our stairs that even has a little “hallway”off of it that extends about 20 feet, it’s just flat out creepy I send the hubby in there if we need anything

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.