Yesterday I got a call that someone wanted to see the house. My husband took the girls to the gym with him and I stayed home to clean up and get the dogs out of here for the showing.
I tend to get a little insane when someone's coming to see the house. I don't know why I get so freaked out. Most people aren't looking at my furniture, paint choices or underwear drawer (Are they? Gross.). Most perspective buyers are checking out the "bones" of the house (ie; the furnace, water heater, roof, appliances, etc.).
Why do I feel like they are judging me instead of the house? It's like I'm getting ready for a date before people come over for a look. I get that same nervous giddiness that invariably turns to bitterness before they even walk in the door.
"Oh goody! Someone's coming to see the house! Must clean, must tidy up. I hope they like the house. I hope we get an offer this time. Oh shit, there's a piece of lint on the stairs. Where did this lollipop stick come from?! Why can't everyone pick up their own shit? I can't keep this up. How can I be expected to have this place perfect all the fucking time? Goddamnit! Fuck these people! If they don't like my house, they can suck a fat cock!"
Rinse and repeat.
I've just about gotten the pre-viewing clean up down to a science but, being in a half-crazed (and usually rushed) state of mind, sometimes things slip through the cracks. The last time someone came over, I forgot to take down one of the baby gates. It wasn't a big deal, and no mention was made of it.
Yesterday I was finishing up and getting ready to put the dogs in the car. This is quite an experience in itself. Pugs aren't generally known for hiding their emotion. When I get out their harnesses, they know they are either going for a walk or getting a ride in the car, both things that send them into a frenzy of snorting, panting insanity. I knew they were going to send dog hair flying about during the harnessing process, so I decided to get them in the car before taking the baby gates down and doing a final scan to make sure I didn't forget anything.
Part of keeping things ready to show is emptying out the upstairs garbage cans. I try to look around the house and pay attention to things I would notice--like empty garbage cans. I don't want to look at someone's used q-tips, so I figure most people don't want to see mine.
This week, to borrow a little junior high slang, Aunt Flo is here for a visit. I visited the upstairs bathroom before leaving the house and, not wanting to leave any garbage up there, carried my little "package" downstairs with me with the intent of putting it in the kitchen garbage (which is hidden under the sink). Before anyone gets all skeeved out, I did wrap it in toilet paper and then the cutesy pink plasticy wrap stuff on top of that.
I scanned the living room on my way down the stairs and noticed some toys behind the couch that needed to be stashed, so I set what I had in my hand on the little phone stand next to the stairs.
The realtor said she was coming over around 10:30 and it was coming up on 10:15. One last look around and I was out the door. Since my husband had the girls with him, I was excited to drive around by myself. Sure, I had the crazy dogs with me, but they generally calm down within a few minutes. I had downloaded the latest This American Life onto my iPod, and couldn't wait to listen to it. I was going to get a latte too. I might as well have been going on vacation!
I don't ask for much.
Ten minutes down the road, it hit me.
If I'm pretty sure no one wants to look at my used q-tips, I am damn sure no one wants too see a USED PAD on the phone stand.
A million things ran through my head. There was really no explaining this away. This was not a forgotten baby gate.
I looked at the clock: 10:25. I had to speed. The dogs jumped up to the front seat, sensing my fear. I worried that I would get pulled over and started picturing me trying to tell the cop the truth. Certainly they would be grossed out enough to let me go. Maybe I would get a police escort back to the house?
I pulled in the driveway and thankfully they hadn't shown up yet. I tore ass to the back door, ran inside and there it was.
We haven't heard anything back from them (yet), but at least I know it isn't because of a forgotten piece of garbage.
For Your Scrapbook
- ► 2008 (100)
- Invasion of the Clutter Snatchers
- Dream a little dream
- One time, I should have kept my mouth shut
- Fair Warning
- Koo Koo Kachoo, Mrs. Robinson
- Sunday Bloody Sunday
- Shoe Porn
- Flip This House
- Got MILF?
- Stupid parents
- Hold me
- Why I never went to medical school
- Maybe it's because we're potty-training
- Christ on a Cracker
- Good Eats
- One time, I almost killed a dentist.
- I'm kind of crazy right now
- ▼ February (18)