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    If I had known you were coming, I would have baked you a cake

    March 28, 2007

    My real estate agent left me a message saying that when she talked to the agent who showed my house to one of his clients on Sunday, he mentioned that the house was “messy.”

    Could I try and straighten up a little before I went out in the future?

    I’m torn.  We had cleaned the house before we went out.  So should I be more pissed off by the “messy” reference or should I be more pissed off about the suggestion that I clean my room before I am allowed to go to the high school football game this weekend or to have my friend Marelle over to watch the Top Gun VHS just one more time?  My mother will attest to the fact that any suggestion by someone other than my own personal internal monitor to “clean my room” will result in total lockdown whereby ants and other bugs will have free reign and not even a pair of underwear will be cleaned for weeks and weeks. 

    The kicker is, I know I should be leaving my house in immaculate condition 24/7 if I want one of the three people within 50 miles who will actually buy a house to pick mine to buy.  And I kept my house in pretty good condition for the first 7 months it was on the market.  I painted the rooms, lit the Jasmine candles before anyone came, baked banana bread before open houses. 

    Then I was too big, too tired and too over it to play the game.  Maybe it’s all those times real estate agents cried “wolf” that has me down.  All the phone calls I got about showing my house only to have no one ever come.

    How about the time 5 weeks ago when I was all alone with my toddler and my 1 week old baby and a real estate agent called to say she wanted to come by in an hour to show the house?  My toddler held his crying baby brother for 50 minutes while I cleaned the entire house–only to have no one show and the agent not answer her cell phone when I called to see if she was still coming. 

    Mr.-Tell-Her-The-House-Won’t-Sell-If-My-Fat-Ass-Has-To-Step-Over-Your-Kid’s-Two-Matchbox-Cars-On-The-Living-
    Room-Floor apparently called my cell phone on Sunday but he never left a message.  I didn’t get to the phone in time (shocking as all I am doing is lounging around my house ignoring my newborn and toddler, eating bon bons and staring at my “messy” house wondering when the maid is going to arrive) and it isn’t my practice to randomly call back unknown numbers that are on caller I.D.  But I should be ready at all times just in case someone may show up at my house?  It happened last night when I was steaming artichoke hearts in water with vinegar.  You SO know those people are gonna wanna buy this house now that they have had the ever pleasant vinegar smell to associate with my house. 

    I am feeling a little tempted to call Mr. Messy back now.  I know that it’s a “buyer’s market” and that owner’s should just stand there and take the beating that they deserve, but don’t I get a waiver for having a brand new baby AND a 2 year old who should be nicknamed “Tornado?”  Am I asking too much here?  Then I look over to see the child’s size 7 footprint on the wall.  An.actual.foot.print.on.the.wall.  And I think that maybe Mr. Messy is right. 

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