Once upon a time, I had a dollhouse. It was large and beautiful, made of wood with intricate features. There were no inhabitants, because they would distract from the house. Details were painted in white and bolder wood-brown. Furniture was smartly arranged and matching each room.

Oh wait, that was a daydream. A very expensive daydream that I hope comes true.

Every little girl wants a dollhouse, right? Well I did. I had a lot of toys as a kid, sure, but I wanted the Ultimate One. I wanted a giant dollhouse to decorate and play in and live out a rich fantasy life. It’s not the only thing I wanted, of course. I was always begging for an American Girl doll (and furniture and clothing) or an Easy Bake Oven (which my beautiful sister later got for me upon high school graduation).

The closest I had was a trunk full of Barbie dolls. The Barbie dolls didn’t have a lot of furniture, although I guess I had a pool and a grocery store checkout lane and a McDonald’s. And the trunk was a wardrobe full of clothes and tiny pink hangers. I guess what I’m really saying is that there’s no reason anyone should have given me a dollhouse, but I wanted one.

Dollhouses always seemed very expensive, growing up. First of all, I had no money. Second, my mom told me that it was. I tried to look some up now to verify but they were ugly ugly ugly. Not like the beautiful wooden houses of my youth.

Here is what I’d like my dollhouse to have, in case you’re a carpenter with the best workbench and you love me:

• 4 – 7 large bedrooms with lovely stained-glass windows
• 2 full bathrooms with luxurious bathtubs
• ornate wooden fireplace mantles and molding
• hardwood floors
• 2 full kitchens
• laundry room
• full basement
• early 1900s light fixtures and fireplaces
• 3-car garage
• a teenaged love-lorn ghost named Judy

I guess I’ll just buy a regular house instead.