I can only assume that the person who designed the house was drunk. Or made a Sims house into reality. That would explain the lock on the outside of my bedroom door, the better to watch me starve with increasingly panicked thought bubbles floating above my head.
This house was weird, and a little broken, and more than slightly awkward. The perfect house for us.
Here was the layout.
So, if you look carefully you will see that in order for me to go to the bathroom, I had to walk through nellie’s room, the kitchen, the living room, and then through Steven’s room. Steven’s room was technically the dining room, which makes me wonder why you would put the only bathroom in a house off of the room meant for eating. There was also a weird basement that could only be accessed by walking around the back of the house. It had dirt floors and was completely unfinished, except that it had sliding glass doors to enter.
Up the hill from the house was a big warehouse type building, which appeared to be a lamp factory, but we assumed was actually some sort of mob front. Either way, they didn’t seem to mind if we used their parking lot. So they were neighborly mobsters.
Anelle was allowed to utilize the lock on the outside of my bedroom door if she needed privacy, so long as she remembered to let me back out.
Steven was in the habit of sleeping naked, which meant trips to the bathroom involved a lot of averting my eyes so as to not burn them out of their sockets by gazing upon… well, you know.
Except then there was the time of the Ovaltine incident. No hemp milk involved in this one. I woke up in the middle of the night and needed to pee. I was not currently locked in my room, so I groggily headed to the bathroom. I got to the kitchen and there was Steven. Did I mention he also had the habit of sleepwalking? So there was Steven standing in the kitchen, buck-ass naked, making Ovaltine in his sleep. I just turned around and went back to my room. Because what else do you do? The next morning he was grumpy because *someone* had spilled his Ovaltine powder all over the kitchen.
That story has nothing to do with the layout of the house, except I will point out that this never happened in our old house. Probably because I got to the bathroom in that house before walking through the kitchen. For all I know Steven was having regular Ovaltine disco parties. He could have been bathing in it. That first house was mostly special for its huge walk-in closet in Steven’s room, which we turned into a tiny guest room all for Charlotte, complete with ethernet cable, Christmas lights, an air mattress, and an overturned milk crate to use as a desk. I never heard her mention any nocturnal powdered beverages.