Across the street from the Villa Monica are a few small complexes like ours and a few little, unassuming houses, the Cali-bungalow type found throughout Santa Monica, to which owners add additions not on top (because such additions would not preserve the bungalow style) but instead out the back in a strange, sprawling manner that makes the most use of every square inch between house and alley. Then the owners either live in this now-livable-sized house with its (I imagine) weird dogleg hallways, or else rent out three or four little apartments on the property, which are connected by skinny dogleg walkways.

The little bungalow directly across from the Villa Monica houses a very special family. This family exudes a happiness that brightens any day. The family includes two teenage boys who play happy Mexican music while working out at the punching bags mounted on the front porch. Two sets of relations with tiny babies visit often in big SUVs full of strollers and gear, and everyone is always VERY happy to see each other. This family even has two tiny dogs who cavort SO HAPPILY around the tiny front yard it is hard not to watch. Tails wagging, faces smiling earnestly up at their masters, they zip from porch to fence and back again and again.

Most special of all, this family is the most festive family in a neighborhood of mostly busy secular working couples in townhome condos, and renters who are phoning it in when it comes to being a community. Halloween is a SPECTACLE in the Happy House yard: Fake cobwebs, purple and black lights, jack o’ lanterns, howly music. It’s beautiful. And Christmas. Oh. Man. We’re talking not one, but TWO gigantic inflatable snowmen, lights galore, a light scuplture on the very tippy top of the roof, and “Feliz Navidad” many an evening. Let me mention again that this house and yard are TINY. The Happy House family crams them with holiday cheer. Pulling out of our basement garage after dark, one is greeted with a fantasy of sweet Christmas joy. Even my husband, aka man-who-sees-no-reason-to-celebrate-unless-it-is-get-in-line-for-iPhone-day, has had to admit it’s lovely.

And now there is a “For Rent” sign in front of the Happy House. This could mean one of two things. Either the Happy House family’s collection of industrial-grade holiday displays has outgrown their little bungalow, or there are apartments behind the Happy House. Oh, please let it be the latter. But if it is not, Stevel says we can rechannel our mental-health expenses into rent and try living in the Happy House in an experiment to see if it is not the family, but the HOUSE that makes one so cheerful. Like a Fountain of Youth. But a House of Happiness. But similar.

In any case, three cheers for the Happy House and for the festive and appreciative family who lives there. You people so often make my day.