When I was 10 years old my family moved to Houston, and my mother took us along while shopping for new houses. There was one house that my sister and I found particularly inspiring — it was two stories (we’d only ever lived in a one-story house and were enamored with the idea of stairs), and, what was even better, it had a bedroom with a window seat. In the car, all the way back to the hotel, we argued over who was going to get that bedroom. My parents, wisely, decided to buy another house.
