Around lunch time Saturday
afternoon, the door bell rings. Resplendent from spending the morning cleaning,
I go downstairs to open the door in my boxers, sweaty t-shirt, and with hair
that looks like the cats played in it.
I push my way past the log jam of
psycho dogs, who are convinced the
doorbell is code for attack, yelling at them to get back like a Neanderthal,
and open the door. It appears to be some schmuck selling
something, so I talk through the screen door and let the dogs continue their we
are ferocious routine. ( I have found employing this tactic really helps the door
to door salesman get to the point quickly.
)
Today's schmuck takes a step back
and introduces himself. He is some
realtor from somewhere, who has a client, who wants to move into our town,
really likes our house, & he was
wondering if we were considering putting the house back on the market.
Oh.
WTF - not even an hour ago, I had
just submitted today's answer for "should we stay or should we go"
and it was "revisit this question in the fall." Now clean cut go-getter real estate boy, has
a client who really likes our house.
Annoyed that I have to put this
life changing decision back on the table, I confess all to captain real
estate. We plan to move, we are pretty
sure we know where we want to move to, we can move, but with that being said,
we are doing nothing to prepare the house to be listed again. At that point Max, the special needs Great
Dane, jumps up on the screen door, ripping the screen out, and hangs halfway
out the door.
"Allow me to introduce the
puppy" I say to Mr. Real Estate Man, who has taken a giant step backwards
and is now sporting wet pants. He is just
one of the reasons why we aren't ready to list the house, I lament, as I
continue to unburden my soul onto this unfortunate poor man, now trapped on my
front porch.
Do you have children Mr. Real
Estate man? Oh one sweet 6 year old girl
who reads books all day. That's swell ... Teenagers live here - do you know
what teenagers and their kind, do during the summer when they aren't working at
their part time job, Mr. Real Estate Man ? Nothing. Absofreakinglutely nothing. Teenagers and their kind, sleep till noon,
and then roam in and out of your house and mess it up, while on their cell
phones making plans to mess up your house even more, later in the day.
Three dogs live here - do you
know what dogs do during the summer while teenagers and their kind, roam in and out of your house and mess it up Mr.
Real Estate Man ? Dogs get crazy and run
amuck throughout your house, spewing their
little hairs everywhere. And then, then,
when crazy, hair spewing, running amuck dogs get tired and need a rest , they
chew things up.
I went back to work full time - does
your wife work outside the home Mr. Real Estate Man ? Oh she stays at home, and you are a special
education teacher. Well I dislike her
already, but you would love it here because this is a special education house,
full of special education needing children, with a husband who is gone from sun
up to sun down, but could use some special education, if he was here, awake,
for more than a few more minutes of the
day.
But yes. Of course your clients can come look at the
house. Would you mind providing a signed
statement that they have spent a half
hour looking at the pictures on line, that they acknowledge the house is on a
corner, and that they concede the back
yard has a pool, yet doesn't have a garage.
If you can obtain the affidavit, then I'll just need a few weeks' notice
to clean, spackle 5-18 holes in the wall, have a couple of rooms carpeted, make
sure there are no stray children in the weeds outback, defrog the pool, and buy
stock in fabreeze so I can cover up the last lingering smell of Spike the
incredible pole vaulting dog vs. skunk
Wait, what do you mean you'll
call me later .....
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