In Which I Fantasize

On days like these, I would like to build an addition to my house. Like a mudroom, but a snowroom. Here are the features that I would like:

–There would be a large double door, because children who want to go out and play in the falling snow want to get out immediately, as in, not 5 seconds behind their sister, and then, when they decide that they’re cold and wet and tired, they want to re-enter the house simultaneously.

–For the floor, about six feet’s worth of floor-that-is-a-grate, like the kind you’ll sometimes see at ski lodges. Extra snow would depart, ne’er to be seen again.

–Overhead, some of those heat lamps that you’ll see in front of fancy hotels (and also in the entryway to Afrim’s).

–Coming from the sides, motion-sensing blow driers. They’d begin work on the wet coats and scarves immediately on the way in. When children would attempt to depart the home with “It’s totally dry already!” hair, these blow driers would click on automatically and actually dry the hair.

–Hooks, pegs, shelves, everywhere. They’d look like a display in Real Simple or Martha Stewart Living magazines. You know, before the kids came back inside. Well, whatever. This is a fantasy. The various bins and camouflaging techniques would actually work.

–While I’m at it, how about a conveyor belt? Or conveyor belts. One would be for grocery bags, and it would shuttle them all straight to the kitchen. The other would go to the laundry area, and if it detected the aroma of dirty socks, it would suck them up like a vacuum cleaner. This would be hidden, maybe behind some Mission-style cabinetry?

But since this is only a fantasy, I’ve got a snow pants, hats, coats, and boots slouching all over my dining room chairs as well as the radiators. Or, no: let’s say festooning. Because that makes it seem festive.