Aside from all the paperwork, politics and personal sacrifice involved with leading the country, living in the White House would be pretty cool.
Last summer, my family took a five-day trip to Washington, D.C.
As it happens, our hotel was one block away from the White House. Naturally, it was one of the first landmarks we visited. Despite being located on 18 acres of land, the house itself looks smaller in person than on TV.
The address of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. is considered the most famous address in the country (although 1313 Mockingbird Lane from "The Munsters" sticks in my brain, too).
The landscaping is beautiful and filled with trees. I don't know whether it's an urban myth, but someone told me armed-security staff actually sit in some of the trees on the lookout for intruders.
With all the security, the White House would be the safest place to live. You don't have to worry about loud neighbors, and the street is closed off to traffic. And if you're short on cash, the Treasury Department is just down the street.
The White House offers plenty of space for a family of three with two dogs and a cat. It contains 132 rooms and 35 bathrooms, according to the Web site whitehouse.gov.
The best news for any mom? The kitchen is staffed with five full-time chefs. I would test the chefs with some of my culinary favorites: the Bob's Big Boy hot fudge ice cream cake. Or maybe an Outback Steakhouse-inspired blooming onion and filet mignon. I would make wild demands at all times of day, such as 7:25 a.m., 2:13 p.m. and 11:55 p.m., to keep the staff in a panic.
Guest chefs would be invited to work at the White House for a month or two.
Southern belle Paula Deen, hunky Rocco DiSpirito and the acerbic Anthony Bourdain would be welcomed. I would make Tony go outside to smoke, though.
And although I'm sure they have coffee pots in the kitchen, I would have a fully equipped Starbucks located on the floor of the master bedroom. This way, I could have staff members run and get me a Caffè Mocha anytime I wanted it.
I would still make them write my name on the side of the cup, too.
Living in the White House would end any space problems. Natalie could use the floors of two bedrooms to drop her clothes. In the mornings, when she's getting ready for school and jamming to Jason Mraz, Natalie could play her stereo as loud as she wanted.
My White House would be furnished with a combination of Pottery Barn, IKEA and Ethan Allen furnishings. I'd get some cool curtains from Pier 1 and Mitchell Gold and Bob Williams sofas.
The furnishings would be changed seasonally and the old stuff sold on eBay for charity.
I would also hire an official White House dog walker and obedience trainer, Cesar Millan, to straighten out our beagle. Bagel the beagle would have a stylish outdoor dog house, since the place is surrounded by an enormous fence.
I would invite the Westminster Kennel Club to hold its dog show on the White House lawn. I would charge them, of course, and use the money to help families spay and neuter their pets.
I would also get some public policy work done. My first law would be to establish a $50 fine to those Americans who continue to spit in public. It's a gross practice and I would like to have it stopped.
After getting the spitting situation under control, I would have my staff search for the biggest flat-screen TV on the market or find out which home theater system Steven Spielberg uses in his home. When I wasn't watching television, I would have a representative from Barnes & Noble read best-sellers to me.
The best part of living in the White House, though, would be not having to dust, vacuum or clean toilets.
It just wouldn't be presidential.