Living a Luxury Vacation

The other night, Shannon and I were talking about vacations, specifically lavish, exotic, all-inclusive type vacations.  We're not too familiar with those, opting for more of the drive-a-zillion-miles-stay-at-Grandpa's-house sort.  We talked about what a sweet gig it would be to get a fabulously wealthy person to take you on vacation so you can watch their kids, or carry their luggage, or let them step on your back as they get in and out of cars.  Then, I figured, maybe they need someone to stay in their enormous house with giant TVs, every channel imaginable and the 3,000 square foot kitchen.  You know, so someone is there to bring in the mail and all.  I'd do that job for a good price.

And then I asked this question: How many people out there would view living in your house and having your disposable income as a fabulous vacation?

But now back to thinking about our standard of living.  I live in a luxury apartment.  It has 4 freaking bathrooms.  It has hardwood floors.  It has a balcony.  I've got a magic lever on my refrigerator that makes ice appear whenever I want it.  I can control the temperature in all the rooms except the girls room.  (Seriously, too hot all summer and too cold all winter in there.)  It's amazing.  Now, half of these things are a fluke of what was available to rent when we were moving here.  I really don't want 4 bathrooms, but there they are, and the price was the same as places with 2 or 3 bathrooms, so, it's not like I'm paying extra for it.  But you get the point.

We also go on wild shopping sprees.  Julia has a perfectly functional bed, but we're on the verge of buying her a new one.  Why?  Just for fun!  The girls want a bunk bed, and it's likely they'll get one soon.  I can make arguments about Ella needing a bed in the not-so-distant future (she's still in the converted crib) (and no, she doesn't need the bed because of any demand for the crib, but because she's 4 years old and can't sleep in the crib forever) and the girls want a bunk bed.  Part of me is a bit concerned that the bunk bed won't be as fun in practice as it is in theory - but even in spite of that, off we go to buy a bed we don't need.  (From IKEA, granted.)

Even in the richest country in the world, there are millions of people who would spend a week in my home and feel like they're in a luxury resort.  And they'd take my budget for clothes, toys, eating out and bunk beds and for them it would a fabulous shopping spree.  And to those millions of Americans, we can also add this cute kid:

It's probably worth remembering more often that life is pretty good.  The standard of living across the entire world is as high as its ever been, and I'm somewhere around the 90th percentile globally.  (The poorest 2% of the US is in the 55th percentile, globally.)  Perhaps rather than complaining about my leaky faucet at home, I'll remember to be a little more amazed at everything that I do have.

I guess I should fix the faucet, too.