Elegant Living
“Sure, I can show the house,” I replied to my
realtor’s phone call. Even though I’d shown the house
twice that week, I steeled myself. With with 17% mortgage interest rates, our house needed to be available for any
showing. In Carmel, Indiana, homes were elegant and
plenteous, making competion fierce. It didn’t matter that
I had a newborn, a thirteen month old and a three year
old undoing any housekeeping I ventured to undertake.
Between the distinctive odor of two children in diapers,
and sour baby bottles ensconced in the depths of my
couch, gracious living was hard to fake. I did well to
put the diaper pail outside and stuff baby toys under the
bed (who’d look there?). As I threw the dirty clothes
basket in the shower, I though I’d hop in the bath tub
for a quick bath. With three little ones I had learned to
shave time off of my morning routine as efficiently as
any Olympic runner. With impressive speed I washed,
shampooed, and dried off. Throwing on some clothes, I
grabbed my children and headed to the car before the
potential buyer got to our house
After circling the block for fifteen minutes, I saw the
realtor’s car leave. Hurray! We could all go back inside
and relax. I unbuckled three car seats and got the troops
into the house. I immediately headed back to the bathroom
to use the facilities. As I opened the door, I let out a
shriek. There, parked next to my sparkling bath tub were
my undies I’d just stepped out of. They hadn’t moved
since I slipped out of them for a quick bath. And there
they stayed in all their glory, waiting for their owner
to claim them.
I thanked the Lord we didn’t sell the house to those
particular clients. I could never have faced the new
owners across a conference table at closing as they
viewed me with subtle snickers. Some things just work
out.
