Kitchen Play

When people come by to look at our newly remodeled house they say things like, "Wow, you've grown up" or "You don't look like grad students anymore."

It's true. We have grown up. Gone is most (though not all) of the "used" furniture, the hand-me-downs and the thrift store finds, the pieces "gifted" by friends, or found at a reasonably priced store like Freddies or Target.

We've moved up in the world. I like the change, though there are times when I shudder at the responsibility of a large mortgage and a house valued at more money then I'll ever see in my lifetime.

I'm a playful person. I enjoy games of all kinds -- cards, board games, and even computer games. I rarely pass up an athletic activity though my frail back has limited my choices (no more wrestling with my brother...besides, his back is bad, too). A nice house and a mortgage doesn't feel playful. It feels mature. I'm not sure I'm ready for mature, despite my ever graying hair.

When we met with the designer to "design" what kind of feel we wanted for the house words like warm, peaceful, and light came up again and again. And that is what we have. The house feels calm and quiet. A place to retreat from our busy lives as teachers. Still, I worried because it lacked the playfulness I see as very much a part of my personality (and Ann's, too).

Ann solved all of that two weeks ago when we traveled to Wenatchee to stay at our friends' cabin by the river. We spent the days skiing and then headed to the Plain Hardware Store for a hot chocolate and a tour around the shop for gifts for family and friends. (Yes, Plain Hardware is more than just a hardware store -- everything from soap to your plumbing needs can be found there and a darn good hot chocolate or latte, too.)

I was combing through the "Life Is Good" apparrel when I heard Ann laugh from the corner of the store. She found me before I could find her and she said, with a look of glee in her eyes, "You'll never guess what I've found?" She led me back to the corner of the store where propped up on a shelf was a complete boxed ping pong set for playing on "any table in your house."

Ann had been looking for such a thing ever since the remodel was complete. In our kitchen, we have an 8 foot island running right down the middle. It's where we spend most of our time. Ann reads the morning paper and drinks her coffee there, I knead weekly bread there, and we entertain our friends with various meals all gathered around the island. At 8 feet long and 3 feet wide, Ann saw its potential from the beginning and once she found the indoor foam set at Plain Hardware, she couldn't be stopped.

I was hesitant. I'll admit it. This was my opportunity at adulthood. This was my chance to be fully grown up. Mature. I wanted to make my mother proud. Bamboo floors, a big kitchen with a fancy stove, tasteful colors, and equally tasteful artwork -- I wanted my mother to walk in and gasp (she did, by the way). Was I willing to turn our functional and stylish island into a ping pong table?

Damn right I was!

It was the best idea Ann ever had (well, after agreeing to marry me) and now, nightly, we clear off the island, set up the net, and laugh ourselves giddy swatting at the foam ball with our foam paddles, learning to finesse the short shot or angle the corner shot. Since the island isn't the exact dimensions of an actual ping pong table (it's much narrower) we've had to give up on athleticism (no more smash shots) and learn the backhand spin or the every popular, but extremely difficult drop shot. We slide like the pros on clay courts across the bamboo floor and reach around the corners to save the point. We have a running total of games won and lost posted on the fridge and whenever friends come over, we force them (though most want to) play a game or two or six.

It's addictive.

But more than that, it's the final touch that has made our house OUR house. True, there are still doors to stain and paint and rugs to buy and a shitload of crap in the basement we need to CraigList or give away or at least organize, but still, when Ann asks, "You wanna play?" with that dance of happiness in her eyes, I not only know I have the exact house I've wanted all my life, I have the EXACT partner, too.