Texas is weird af
when i was little, we moved from a tiny town in Oklahoma, the state where kids recently had four-day-weekends because the budget wasn’t big enough, to Texas. not rural Texas, rich white Texas. Texas where closed-gate-communities had names like ‘The Dominion’ and ‘The Versailles (of Southlake)’. Texas where designer clothes could be found in strip malls and the Barnes and Nobles had fake balconies. Texas with the pristine-white fake-Disney-castle mini-mansions, which is what I’m going to talk about.
i lived in a pretty big ranch-style house with a pool. it was five times better than our Oklahoma house, where termite infestations abounded and everything was just kind of ok? at least it was better than some of our neighbor’s houses, which looked like they’d been challenged to a fistfight and lost (weird metaphor i know). Anyway, I had a friend in Texas. She’d told me she, too, had a pretty small house and her parents didn’t really care about that kind of thing.
Then I went to her house.
It had a turret. A fucking turret. When i rang the doorbell, it made an ominous, church-bell-like sound, and the pool was lined with fake rocks. You can tell someone’s rich and southern if their pool is lined with fake rocks.
long story short, if you live in suburban Texas and someone tells you their house is small, be ready for a mini-castle.