When a New House isn't New Anymore

I'm wondering, when is a new house not NEW anymore?

Maybe when you've learned the exact moment the furnace will turn on by the series of clicks you hear from the thermostat. Or, when you can tell it's time to change the filter by the rate of dust collection on the dining room table. Maybe when it's time to repaint all the repainting. Perhaps when the carpet on the steps needs shampooed. Possibly when the exterior trim needs scraped and you're wondering how to color match the original color. Could it be when you know it’s time to get the mail because your subconscious triggered a conditioned response to the muffler-deficient mail truck that just drove by. Maybe it's by the squeak of the half-bath faucet or the annoying way the door on the upstairs bath won't latch shut anymore. How about when you can walk into your neighbors laundry room door without knocking to borrow a cup of sugar. Quite possibly it’s when you can identify the oil stains on the garage floor of a car you no longer own. Maybe it's by the way you know when it's 5:30 because the neighbors kitchen light is shining in your bedroom window. Or, is it when you forget that new house smell because yours smells like old diapers, wet dog, a strange odor emanating from the refrigerator, and, when you’re lucky, a well-placed candle?

We've officially been in this house for four years and I’m not sure that I can consider it "new" anymore. That's a new record for us, as you may well know. I don't see us going anywhere soon. Not that we haven't considered it. But we've been so happy here, why not give it another four?