Ms. House, or Anita as her friends called her, wanted her very own home. She had tried to live in a shoebox and one time she even tried to settle down in a silverware drawer, but it never worked out.  Once, when she was leaving her shoebox, a cat almost carried her away. On another most harrowing occasion, Mr. Wutherbean, who could barely see without his thick glasses, tried to use her to stir his tea.   Ms. House was at her wit’s end.  She was a person, not a shoe, a cat toy or a spoon!  Ms. House wanted a home just like everyone else; but of course it would have to be about the size of a loaf of bread.  You see Ms. House is only five inches tall. 

No one knows why she’s so tiny.  She grew up the oldest of five siblings.  Her four younger brothers all sprouted to be six-feet or taller.  Her dad is a tall tree of an old man, while her mother measures somewhere above the average height. Ms. House never reveals her actual height.  She doesn’t like to bring up feet or inches around her daughter.  It’s kind of a general House rule.  Even if you are three-foot six, don’t talk about it around little Anita, as boasting isn’t polite.