I swear she was my friend.
I mean, she wouldn’t lead me to some unknown neighborhood with vague claims of a hotel just for a laugh, right? Perhaps twenty years of friendship with me had driven her off the deep end…..
Because clearly there was no hotel here. Did she think there was one tucked in among the slightly sketchy 1970s houses? Oh, an Airbnb, she clarifies. Now I know we’ll be staying in someone’s basement where body parts are hidden in a corner freezer….
As I followed her around the bend, silently writing my own hostage negotiation note in my head (just in case…), I saw the miniature peaked roof standing proud above the fence line…
“OH MY GOODNESS DI!!!!! DID YOU BRING ME TO A TINY HOUSE?!?!?!?!? ARE WE STAYING IN A TINY HOUSE?!?!?!?”
Then I pretty much passed out from excitement.
Tucked in among the trees in a surprisingly private backyard, this tiny house was delightful, charming, and cozy. Complete with bathroom, kitchen, and loft, it felt far larger than we both anticipated.
It was a fantastic overnight stay (complete with a hailstorm and composting toilet), and fulfilled a tiny dream to one day stay in a tiny house (tee hee…).
Best almost-terrifying-but-turned-out-to-be-awesome surprise ever!