I so think that whoever came to look at our house today should make an offer because I so don't want to go through that again.
After all, I'm not so mechanically dis-inclined that I can't even wash a window without it looking like this:
On a Saturday, less than 24 hours before a showing.
Nor am I the kind of housekeeper who would find the missing spatula when one of the mop strands caught on it under the oven and sent it spinning across the floor. Once in possession of it, there is no way I would have stood there torn for a moment before shoving it in the oven.
Also, I'm a night owl. I work best when the rest of the world is winding down. Therefore it is thoroughly inconceivable that I would have laid down to nurse the baby at such and early hour as eleven and fallen sound asleep, leaving me with way to much to do with young children about.
I'm not the kind of mom who would have sat them down in front of hulu.com to watch episode after episode of Fat Albert while I cleaned and painted and straightened.
After reading about all there is to read about how to show your home, I also would not have spent extra time in the front room, cleaning the entry way and making sure that first impression was the best impression possible only to remember as we were leaving that they would be entering through the back door.
And I'm most certainly not the kind of mom who would near a meltdown fifteen minutes after coming home to an almost perfectly clean house (minus the spatula and pot in the oven) because the kitty litter had already been dumped, clothes were already strewn about the house, bathwater was already being splashed out and somehow a round of cups had migrated to various parts of the house. Because I'm totally the calm, cool and collected type.
At the end of it all, however, I sat in the playroom and nursed the baby while watching Bear and L.E. Fant paint on the back porch. There was something about the blue sky, the gentle breeze tussling their hair and the intentness of their activity that was peaceful.
Pause a moment, take a deep breath and relish in the glory of creation kind of peaceful.
That's how I want our summer days to be. That crazy lady I don't know can go away now. . . and maybe even stay away if those people would only make a decent offer.
After all, I'm not so mechanically dis-inclined that I can't even wash a window without it looking like this:
On a Saturday, less than 24 hours before a showing.Nor am I the kind of housekeeper who would find the missing spatula when one of the mop strands caught on it under the oven and sent it spinning across the floor. Once in possession of it, there is no way I would have stood there torn for a moment before shoving it in the oven.
Also, I'm a night owl. I work best when the rest of the world is winding down. Therefore it is thoroughly inconceivable that I would have laid down to nurse the baby at such and early hour as eleven and fallen sound asleep, leaving me with way to much to do with young children about.
I'm not the kind of mom who would have sat them down in front of hulu.com to watch episode after episode of Fat Albert while I cleaned and painted and straightened.
After reading about all there is to read about how to show your home, I also would not have spent extra time in the front room, cleaning the entry way and making sure that first impression was the best impression possible only to remember as we were leaving that they would be entering through the back door.
And I'm most certainly not the kind of mom who would near a meltdown fifteen minutes after coming home to an almost perfectly clean house (minus the spatula and pot in the oven) because the kitty litter had already been dumped, clothes were already strewn about the house, bathwater was already being splashed out and somehow a round of cups had migrated to various parts of the house. Because I'm totally the calm, cool and collected type.
At the end of it all, however, I sat in the playroom and nursed the baby while watching Bear and L.E. Fant paint on the back porch. There was something about the blue sky, the gentle breeze tussling their hair and the intentness of their activity that was peaceful.
Pause a moment, take a deep breath and relish in the glory of creation kind of peaceful.
That's how I want our summer days to be. That crazy lady I don't know can go away now. . . and maybe even stay away if those people would only make a decent offer.
