[ WP ] You are a realtor showing a house to a young couple . They love the house , but you have something to disclose , and no its not a murder .

`` And here,'' I declared, `` is the mansion. Let me tell you, it's a piece of work.'' I gestured towards a small, dirty, plastic play-castle in my backyard. 
 
 `` It's very good, yes,'' said my young daughter as she tugged on her blushing friend, `` my husband and I want to purchase it for one billion dollars!'' 
 
 `` One billion dollars!'' I yelped, `` That's too little, I need two billion dollars! I have to get money for my kids, you know!'' 
 
 My daughter's friend, who had been silent for the entire game, began to speak up, `` Uh - ah - I have money.'' he stammered. My daughter looked at him in delight. `` Yes,'' he said, `` I have fifty billion dollars.'' He clamped his mouth shut as my daughter screamed joyfully and began to twirl around him in a dance. 
 
 `` Okay, here is two billion dollars, Mr. House Seller.'' My daughter said as she made the motions of giving me cold, hard cash. `` Come on, husband, let us go to the house and make sure it is n't haunted by ghosts.'' She and her friend tramped up to the house and began to climb around. Her friend finally began to open up and smiled as he clambered around the small, plastic walls. They were soon laughing and I waved my cheery goodbyes as I left the backyard. 
 
 I entered my house through the back door and took a shower. I should've guessed my daughter would invite a friend over this early in the morning, I did n't get any time to clean up - the mud games we initially played with her friend certainly did n't help me. I should've told her that I was working late last night. Ah well, my fault. I let the cold water wash over me for a few minutes before I used soap. I tried moving the faucet towards the heat, but the water remained chilly. I got out after a few minutes and changed into a fresh pair of clothes. Nothing to do today, for once, so I could relax with what I wore. 
 
 I sat at the kitchen table and palmed through some real-estate magazines. I wondered how many new, furnished houses I could buy if I won the lottery. 
 
 I could hear the kids laughing through the thin walls, so I began to take out some tools to fix up the house. I dusted the curtains, pushed in some protruding nails back into the floorboard, and prayed for the couch to last a little while longer. I finished, and the sun was nearly setting. My daughter's friend gave his goodbyes and left. My large backyard was a blessing for keeping the kids entertained. 
 
 I began to fall asleep, but my daughter caught me. `` Dad,'' she began, `` I found this picture in the castle.'' She gave me a small slip of photographic paper. I glimpsed the woman's face and quickly turned the image away from me. My daughter looked at me in the eyes, as if she expected me to do something. 
 
 `` Go do your homework, it's Saturday, got ta go to Church tomorrow.'' I commanded her brusquely. `` You have to be the Easter Bunny, so I do n't want to be late because you stayed up late doing it.'' My daughter nodded and took off for her room. I pushed the photograph into the couch's seat edge, careful not to bend even a corner. I went back to the dinner table and went through the real-estate magazines again. My thoughts flickered between a fantasy of a life I wish I had with my daughter, and news of Jimmy Carter's successful fight against cancer. 

