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No word from the realtor yet about the house viewings that he’s supposed to be setting up for tomorrow. I looked at pictures of the units online. One has a nicer kitchen than the house we lost, but neither of them have nice new crown moldings that the Lost House had.

I want my crown moldings back!

See, this is where my only-child comes out. When you’re an only child, you don’t get disappointed much. My parents didn’t give me everything I wanted, but they did keep their promises. I didn’t have siblings to compete with, or to bully me. No one ever stole my candy, or made me share my new toys. So when something is yanked away from me, I blink in disbelief. It isn’t part of my emotional schema that something can be within my grasp, and then taken away from me, and not be recoverable.

So here I am, getting ever closer to age thirty, and I still want to throw a tantrum.

I want my nice house with the crown moldings baaa-aaack! Make him give it baa-aack!

…Or at least, make him call with an appointment to see a house that is just as nicely renovated.

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