We have had house showings every night for the last week, except Monday.
On Tuesday, we had two showings, back-to-back. Each time we have to pack up the kids and the dog and get the hell out of dodge for an hour and a half or so. It’s getting kinda old. I miss just having normal evenings. I’m sure the boys do, too. I suppose it’s a good thing that we’ve had so much interest in the house, though.
On a related note, I keep forgetting and calling them “house viewings”, as if we’re having a funeral for our house. It’s a “house showing”. House showing.
Our house is officially for sale.
We’re asking a little more than our realtor would like us to, but we haven’t bought a new place yet, so we’ve got plenty of time. We’ll see what happens!
It’s weird to see pictures of the inside of the home we’ve lived in for the last eight years on the internet. Pictures of my kids’ rooms and all of our stuff. Also, random people entering our house and looking at all of our stuff while we’re not there is a bit unnerving. But I guess that’s what you gotta do.
I feel so bad that we had to tell our 82 year old neighbor, Harold, that we’re moving. He’s been so helpful and kind to us. He always calls me and tells me if I’ve left my garage open at night and he gives tennis balls to my dog. He also likes to give us things like microwave popcorn and generic brand, giant jars of jelly that he bought at the hardware store down the street because it was on sale. He’s such a cool old dude and he’s so with it for his age.