Well, Look What We Have Here

When the house was listed this past week, the Bigs (Beernut and Poppyseed) were shipped off to Bubbe-and-ZaydeGiraffes’ house. The reason? There was just no way that I was going to be able to stay on top of these three children and keep our house ready to show at any given moment. Let’s leave aside, for just a moment, that their straightening-up skills are mediocre. The type of clean that showing a home necessitates requires an ability to discern the minute details that might distract a potential buyer. An ability that is far beyond these children of mine. So off to BubbeGiraffe’s they went while Peach stayed behind at home.

In a moment of bleary weakness, I let Poppyseed come home after shul on Friday night. To be equitable, Beernut switched places with her on Saturday night. And to give Bubbe-and-ZaydeGiraffe a well-deserved break, I brought Beernut AND Poppyseed back home to spend afternoon with me and Peach. Which elicited the following response from their little brother:

You’re letting the kids come home? But I need my peace-and-quiet!

Should have taken your advice, little four-year-old. Because the Bigs were very excited to be home. And their exuberance was…shall we say…loud.

In addition to the aforementioned reason for dispatching the children to my poor parents, I also knew that it would be hard for them to see strangers traipsing through our house at all hours of the day and night. Beernut goes to sleep at 7:30pm and does not take kindly to being bothered after that time. We’ve had people come to see our home all the way up until 8:45pm. And while I always have the option of saying it isn’t a good time, that doesn’t seem to be prudent given that we want to sell the house.

What I hadn’t foreseen was Poppyseed’s discomfort with people lurking around and peeking into every corner of the house. Which leads me to this afternoon’s slight mishap. At a pre-arranged time, a realtor brought his clients to see the house. Poppyseed waved hello and then, I thought, retreated back into the study. Beernut offered a greeting without even looking up from his Wii game. And Peach, as has become his practice, proceeded to give the couple a tour of the property. Things were going swimmingly until the husband opened the closet door in Poppyseed’s room and, much to their mutual surprise, discovered a petite seven-year-old sitting on the bureau. Whereupon they emitted sounds of shock. In unison. The man struggled to regain his composure; Poppyseed, as one might expect, promptly burst into tears.

And so continues our ongoing search to find the right family for our home.