Occasionally we go on playdates to houses that are, quite frankly, jaw-dropping.
We were in one such three-story gorgeous thingies today. The kids were watched by the nanny and the cleaning lady was doing her bi-weekly thing (as in twice a week, not every two weeks - right?) and I was trying very hard to just be happy for the people who lived there and not jealous of their twelve- or fifteen-foot ceilings or whatever they were.
The best I could come up with was this:
If I worked the playdate angle, I could probably manage to spend more waking hours in this house than the people who pay the mortgage.
That's not too snarky, is it?