Maybe one of the most succinct and damning descriptions of those "McMansion" houses that have sprung up in Hawai'i's newer developments came from a guy who went to a Sunday open house to have a look:

"I dunno. It's not the kind of place where you can just sit on the floor."

For him, and for many, an essential element of a dream house is the ability to just come in and sit on the floor. Sit on the floor to watch TV, sit on the floor to eat dinner, sit on the floor to play with the kids, sit on the floor to talk story half the night. Regardless if it's a six-bedroom plantation-era stunner with 10-foot ceilings or a one-bedroom efficiency in a hollow-tile walk-up, the floor-sitting factor speaks to the ease of living many in Hawai'i cultivate and the bonds of family and friends we treasure.

It's not just a matter of high-end beauty versus low-end practicality.

The pages of "Hawai'i, a Sense of Place," the award-winning book by Mary Philpotts McGrath and Kaui Philpotts, show the most beautiful floors and floor coverings, all completely sittable. Sure, you'd be there on the floor, awestruck, thinking, "Wow! Check out this swirl pattern in the wood!" or "This carpet probably costs more than my car," but you could definitely get past the admiration and move into ease and enjoyment.

A house where you can just come in and sit on the floor also implies a level of upkeep. Some houses, and you know you've seen them, are plenty comfy but gee, maybe someone could run a vacuum once in a while? How many pets live here, anyway?

Hosting a Hawai'i-style party with a huge meal disguised as "heavy pupu" where guests sit cross-legged around the monkeypod coffee table and along the sliding glass door to the backyard speaks to the resilience and competence of the homeowners. Nobody is going to freak out if you drop a noodle on the carpet or spill wine on the floor. No problem. Just wipe and pau.

Perhaps it is an extension of the way Hawai'i families go to the beach: sitting on the sand all together on one big beach towel or a massive foldout goza mat rather than like those images of faraway beaches where people lie alone on an individual chaise lounge, each one facing the ocean and not each other.

The holiday meals eaten on paper plates from the foot of the sofa, the dress patterns laid across shag carpet, the letters written using the hassock as a desk — the house may be worth millions and packed with amenities, but if you can't do those things comfortably, for some, it's not quite a Hawai'i home.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.