House for Sale

I stared at my phone, wondering who on earth would be calling me on a Saturday. Or ever, actually, as I am on the record for lacking the ability to answer the phone like other responsible adults. It flashed again and again as I sat in Pearl’s room surrounded by ponies and princesses and dirty laundry and I silenced the thing, assuming some poor wayward soul had misdialed.

The voicemail from our realtor's secretary informed me a few moments later that another agent wanted to show our house.

Holey rusted metal, Batman.

If you have ever had your house on the market you know this feeling of frustration yet excitement with gratitude sprinkled on top oh so well. Busting your bahonkus to leave the place pristine each morning during the week so that those folks can have at it as many times as they’d like, only to be informed at the least convenient moments at night or on weekends that you needed to clear out. It’s the one cruel trick you can count on when your house is for sale.

I've also noted that The Captain's out of town days always seem to correspond perfectly with these late in the game, you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me, showings. That kicks the old stressy stress-o-meter (need one? I've got like 7 of those right now) up into Threat Level Midnight.  

For the record, thanks to some major declutterfication our lovely abode is much easier to maintain these days than a few months ago. We aren’t Molly Maids but we do okay.

Fast forward an hour and a half and the place wasn’t exactly perfect but it was pretending nicely. Papers from the desk pushed back in the closet, dirty clothes taken back out of the laundry room (!) and stuck in a closet, dirty skillet shoved in the oven, and The Captain’s personal favorite…a garbage bag full of dirty dishes I had yanked out of the sink and dumped under it. Potential home buyers don’t look under the sink, right? Tell me they don't look under the sink. 

image (3).jpg

I will say that I've never been so thankful for our app-based alarm system. I can literally watch the folks entering and departing, without having to sit around with my kids in the Realm of the Unknown...or come home and stumble unawares onto some lovely little house-shoppers. 

The aftermath of this particular clean house attack has been hefty fuel for our amusement. I won’t even tell you where I put the laptop.

It’s all fun and games, though, until someone starts looking for the mail.