My girlfriend Sydney and I went to look at the house William and I are trying…desperately, to buy. I do this a lot these days. I take the baby and we go peer into the windows of our beautiful future house and imagine. Curtains. And an island with a butcher slab standing proudly in our BIG kitchen. Sometimes we go alone and laze about in our future grass, pointing at (very low and noisy) airplanes. Other times we make others go with us and hope they have the good sense to say only nice things about our house, lest they not get invited over for soup after we move in. Well, Sydney was splendid and saw the house as I did, perfect. Now that we have placed our final offer in this long and mentally exhausting ballet, the house is a short sale, we have only to wait while the bank dudes play with their calculators and fidget and sweat and decide our fate. Wish us luck. There is only elation or tragedy to come.