Our house was built in the early '70s, and in this city that makes it old, but I love it. We have gigantic trees and we have gigantic squeaks going on upstairs. Most people, including my husband, find these types of squeaks annoying. But, for some reason, I find them comforting. They make me feel connected to my kids before I even see them in the morning. I know they're awake and moving around. I can tell which kid is which. They're not sneakers, but they couldn't be if they tried. The stairs and hallway would give them up. Believe me, Phil and I have tried to sneak upstairs to deliver birthday morning gifts to their bedrooms and the stairs and hallway snitch on us every time.
I find squeaks in cars a real pain, but I'm very positive about the squeaks in my house. Unless it's a mouse squeaking and if that happened, believe me, I would not be positive. I would be positively screaming. Those nasty little creatures...oh wait, I'm suppose to be being positive.