Tiny Houses Are a Stupid Idea

"Can you move your elbow? I'm trying to fold laundry."

I do not watch reality TV. I don’t follow the lives of famous families or watch competitions of any kind.  The closest the Mrs. and I have ever come to watching reality is the occasional HGTV home improvement show or cooking stuff in the old days on the Food Network.

A blog post about how terrible this genre is and how dumb it makes us as a people would be about as fun as watching over-produced fluff about the wives of rich assholes. However, putting aside the desperate need for fame at any cost, I have found something that is equally as dangerous.  I found it on HGTV.  After they spent years following regular people as they bought houses and vacation homes and apartments, they opened up the world of tiny houses.

If you aren’t aware, a tiny house is just that.  It is the house the size of a trailer, that is meant to stay in one spot, once it settles in.  The width is about 10 feet usually and the length varies, but it is meant for one or two people to live inside.  The allure is that a normal house is too expensive, and money can be spent on ‘lifestyle’ instead of the trappings of a traditional home.

Well, they’re right.  Homes are too expensive.  You should be able to have extra money to do things besides pay for mortgage and upkeep. Practically, it makes sense.

There are a few snags.  First, you need somewhere to build and/or keep the house.  The episodes I’ve seen usually involve a young couple building on family property.  Okay, that must be nice.  I guess we’d all like some family land to build on.  Also, there is no room for kids if you decide to have any.  If you do have kids and you move them in one of these, I would consider that child abuse.  I can’t imagine a child forced to share the same space as their dad’s farts 24/7.  I can’t imagine having a sibling in my face all the time.

(Wait, I can.  I shared a room with my brother for our entire childhood.  It sucked.)

But the primary reason these are just god-awful stupid and short-sighted is that they are like kryptonite to a marriage.  Anyone who can withstand the intensely close proximity year after year must be made of iron and breathe fire.  No matter who you are, you need space.  Actual space.  Square footage.  Our culture demands it.  We don’t like being on top of one another.  We need time alone with our own thoughts and our own stuff.

I like the theory of memories over material possessions.  It’s a good way to go.  But we still live in 2017, right?  We all have jobs and we get limited vacation time.  Most of our time won’t be spent on ski vacations or hiking or taking that trip to Italy.  It’s unwinding after a long day at work, clipping our toenails, filling the house with the smells of cayenne pepper or beef or whatever’s for dinner, and falling asleep in the middle of NCIS Buffalo. Most of the time you will be staring face to face with your loved one, unable to go to another room and read or listen to music or do anything without bothering them.

Have you showered today?

Did I already tell you about Dave at work?

Stop making that sound with your feet.

In your face.  All the time.  No walls to stop it.

Day after day…listening to the other person’s nose whistle when he breathes. Seeing her scratch the same spot on the bottom of her foot with the tail end of a PaperMate pen. The foot tapping.  The sniffling.  The same questions over and over.  No escape.  No respite. Just face to face with your partner, swimming in the same body funk until it melds into one giant cloud of irritation and madness. There are bathrooms supposedly in these things, right?  Every time you go, the other person hears EVERYTHING.  Every time you leave the bathroom closet, the door swings open into the living room cubby and kitchen nook. 

I want to crack my knuckles in peace.  I want to watch my Simpsons reruns and laugh at the same lines I’ve heard a dozen times.  If my wife and I and to share the size of a house that is less than half of my garage, she would have strangled me by now.  It would have been one snarky comment too many.

My advice? Find a space with a minimum of two full sized rooms. Separate bathrooms, too, if you can swing it. I’ve been married a long time.  My wife and I have our space. We have together time and alone time. That’s how you do it. That’s how you make it this long without losing your shit.  Spending your life purposely huddled in a tool shed is insane.