When life hands me lemons, I like to tell the whole world about it.
Today didn't feel like a lemony day. I felt pretty liberated from the whole house-selling biz, what with our new resolution to eliminate Sunday showings altogether. Before today we were allowing people to tour while we were at church, but we began to feel uneasy about that course of action. Anyway, with new instructions posted with our listing, I woke up thinking about fasting and Primary singing time and regular Sunday stuff. It was a lovely way to live. I felt like I could finally take a breath.
In fact, I took several. I breathed easy after I fixed my hair and didn't put away the blow dryer. I skipped sweeping the floor after breakfast (the kids will spill after dinner; I'll clean it up then). When my boots were mysteriously missing five minutes before church and I unloaded the dirty clothes hamper in the search, I didn't think twice about leaving the whole pile right there on the floor. Who cares? My house isn't a sterile museum today and no one will know.
Some of you can probably guess where this is going. Wait for it...
Church was rather lovely today. Hoarse voice and all, I bore my testimony that my Heavenly Father loves me and is mindful of my trials. Sometimes it's hard to trust in His timetable, but He always answers prayers and grants needed blessings in the best possible way. I recalled the moment at this time last year when I felt utterly deprived (of a baby) and how Gavin came along at just the perfect time. I felt spiritually renewed. Sunday School was great, and the things I prepared for Primary singing time turned out even better than I thought they would. Those three hours were some of the best of my week.
And then we came home.
Garry and the boys walked through the grass on our side yard to get to the front door, but I didn't want to sink in the mud, so I walked around. And in the driveway, I found a little family getting into their van. They had obviously been house hunting. Being the friendly soul that I am, I asked how they liked the homes in the cul-de-sac (there are two others for sale). Then I saw the flyer in the woman's hand. She pointed to my house -- my house -- and said she'd just looked at that one. My heart stopped. My jaw dropped to the floor. That one? My house? You mean the one with the unmade beds and dishes in the sink and laundry on the floor...and....and....my house??? Frantically (and with my ridiculously raspy voice) I told them we didn't do Sunday showings and that our house never looks like that for a showing and wouldn't they love to PLEASE come back when it was clean? Apparently another group came in on their heels, so two families and two Realtors saw our house in its present condition. The little family and their Realtor couldn't have been nicer, but I was completely horrified.
We still aren't certain where the point of failure occurred. I made a harried call to our agent, who apologized profusely and was very nice. It took a while for my blood pressure to return to normal and a little longer for me to laugh about the situation. Garry offered one point of reassurance: at least people know now that an actual family lives here. Gone is the pretense that our house is inhabited by clean, silent mice who always pick up after themselves and have no real belongings, appetites, or clothing. Since a couple groups of strangers have witnessed how we really live (when allowed to do so), I thought it would be fun to dispel the myth that my house is always clean.
But just for the record (I feel like I have to preserve a little dignity here), today is the first day since January 25 that I have left this house for more than ten minutes in anything but utterly pristine condition. With that, enjoy.
Notice the dirty diaper on the dresser. Gavin's stained Onesie is next to it.
This could have been worse; at least no underwear were showing.
At least we only had two meals in our bellies since doing the dishes...
Next to the sink: a book by "Supernanny" Jo Frost on taming wild children.
Crumbs on the table, under the table, in the table...what fun!
8 comments:
I couldn't help but smile. A great post. Thanks.
Oh my gosh, I am sooooooo sorry! That happened to us once - we thought "surely no one in their right mind is our of the house on a Sunday morning at 8 am, unless they're at church like we are!"
Yes, yes they do. Some people do show houses at 8 am Sunday morning. Our house looked at least as bad as yours, and it was truly humbling.
Glad to know this has happened to someone else!
If it will make you feel better I can post some pictures of my house. Emily has been out of town for 3 days. Just imagine the possibilities here.
Sorry about the mixup, but your house can't compare with some things I saw while house shopping with Amy. Seriously, yours is pristine. Hope one of them is "the right one." Soon, baby, soon.
When we were housing hunting, we saw some scary stuff. One house it was obvious that they had never cleaned it, ever. It was mind-boggling to me that their realtor would even list it in the condition it was. And the owner sat in her backyard the whole time we were there. It was too weird. Believe me, your house is nothing compared to that.
I'm praying it sells soon so you don't have to live through this much longer!
I am laughing so hard because that exact same thing happened to us when we first listed our house for a month in August. There are times when you just have to laugh or else you'll cry.
Well the good news is...you didn't have to clean the house for one whole morning!
And..this too shall pass.
When we were house hunting our realtor called ahead for us to revisit a home we were interested in. With advance notice & agreeing to the showing it was beyond trashed. Yours looks lovely by comparison.
So at least you know you care to clean, when given the opportunity. And maybe it helped someone visualize their "real" family life in your great home.
Oh...and I just have to say, "What's up with the ghetto comments??". You are in a nice neighborhood.
Lauriann
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