According to Hugh, Julie's house is the best house. If he could, he would live there and I would visit him. She and I live close to each other and I'm always trying to convince her son to play at our house, but I'm coming to the conclusion that my house is not "the fun house" I thought it was. Julie is my cousin and mother of five boys. Her youngest, Oakley, and Hugh are good little buddies. These are some snippets of conversation I've heard about Julie's house this week:
"At Julie's house, whenever Oakley wants some candy, she always says YES! He can have candy whenever he wants."
"Julie swam with Octopuses in the OCEAN! You don't do that."
"At Julie's house, you can get to the next level of Super Mario Brothers, not like at out house."
We were talking about what we wanted to do this weekend and, like always, bowling came up. Because of logistics and whatnot (and the fact that taking little kids bowling is problematic, as in, I don't like it), I said, "Well, we're not going bowling tonight." To which Hugh replied, "When I went to Julie's house, we went bowling. . ."
Yep. They went bowling IN JULIE'S HOUSE.