Yet Another Housing Update

I think Timothy and I are going to rent our house when we move.  On Tuesday night at about 9:00 pm I listed the house as a rental on ksl.  The next day I had four people come look at it, and today I had three.  I also had three showings for people wanting to purchase the home in the past two days and two showings tomorrow.

I'm so tired.

Wednesday I had a showing at 11:00 - 12:00, then another at 12:30, 2:00, 4:45 - 5:45, 6:00, and 6:15.  Argh!  It was a crazy day!

Today wasn't so bad.  I had possible tenants come at 2:00 and 2:15, then a buyer from 4:00 - 5:00 (they didn't actually show up until 5:15 when I'd already brought the kids home and started supper; they were nice though, so it worked out fine), and another buyer at 7:30.

The hysterical part (and I do mean hysterical--as in, I'm in a state of constant hysteria) is that all those people gushed about my beautiful home and three of them used the word "immaculate."  The concept of "immaculate" has never before been tied to my home.  I also heard "so organized" repeatedly.  Apparently they liked my rows of neatly labeled hand-me-down clothes tubs?

I made bread today and the loaves were cooling on the table when the afternoon possible-tenants arrived.  Seriously, I should make bread before every showing.  They (the tenant and her sister) raved about how good the house smelled and "how do you have six kids and make bread and keep your house immaculate?"  Ha.  One lady said, "If you write a parenting book, I want a copy."  Double ha.

The best though was the couple who came tonight at 7:30.  The husband was particularly impressed with how Timothy finished the basement and how "immaculate" the house is when six kids live in it.  He said to me, "Respect."  I started giggling like a madwoman internally and desperately wanted to say, "Epic fail," to be equally hip.  I managed to resist.

What I learned: when you show your house you really are putting on a show.  I may be a good actress but the behind-the-scenes yelling and chocolate eating and continual hysterics is not worth the final production.  Unless, of course, someone buys or rents the place.

That brings us back to the point of the post.  We met a lady today (she came in with her sister, named Mallory, and sister's baby, named Timothy (it was a sign)) who wants our house.  She loves everything about it, including my orange walls and striped ceiling.  She's starting the dental hygiene program at Weber (another sign) and plans on renting the house for at least the three years it will take to finish the program.  That is an ideal set-up for us if we want to be landlords.  We are pretty sure that if her and her spouse's information checks out that we will sign a lease with them by Saturday and move into the packing phase of this process.

In the meantime, Timothy insists I don't burn any bridges until we have a signed lease so I have to prep for two showings tomorrow.  One of them is a two-hour window showing.  I loathe those--it is so much harder to keep the kids entertained for two hours than the more typical one hour window.

And now I have another pressing problem: how to work, "Respect," into conversation.

PS The other night I partied at Megan's house with Danica, Lindsay and Sterling, and Timothy.  The whole night was hilarious. After a conversation about evolution (theistic evolution in particular), Megan grabbed her head and said, "My little brain is steaming!!"  It was hilarious.  Later we had a charming conversation about who we will talk to on the phone while using the bathroom.  Megan said, "Sometimes I want to ask mom if she can hear me peeing."  At that point, Megan was laughing so hard she was crying (one of my favorite things in the world) and Lindsay and I were laughing so hard we couldn't breathe.  I know you had to be there, but it really was funny.

The other great part of the night?  When we heard random, shrill, repeated screaming from downstairs that turned out to be Danica, thrilled that she finally, at age 40, had procured a baby girl.  She and Myles were playing Life.

Danica--what is your pasta joke?  I can't remember it but I remember that it was funny.