A couple came to see our house for the second time last night. We had to leave from 7 - 8pm. The Skimmer and I grabbed dinner and got home around 8:15. Two cars were still in the driveway. The realtor's Crossfire and the family's gigantic truck (that I don't hate, but am not very fond of). The Skimmer and I parked down the street to spy on them. They came out of our house (their house?) at 8:25. He was a burly fellow, head shaved, wearing a red t-shirt. Two little boys, around 5 and 7, came running out the front door and chased each other around our front yard (their front yard?). The wife and realtor came out last. I couldn't see the wife very well. The Skimmer told me this morning she looked rather marmy.
"I don't know. She was kind of meek. Light brown hair and a plaid skirt to her knees."
"Hmmm. Well, what do you think's going on? Maybe they're having coffee right now and Marmy is saying to Burly, "I really want it, honey! I have to have it! C'mon, I really want it!"
And then I thought, Well, that's a pretty sexist scenario, BG.
I just got a call from our realtor. Burly and Marmy are moving from out of state. They have to buy a house. The house they have to buy is between our house and another house.
Marmy likes our house because it's in a development with lots of kids.
Burly likes the other house. Which is not in a development. It's on a few acres of land on a quiet country road.
My realtor and I are pulling for Marmy. And we're trying to stack the deck against Burly's acres. Burly's boring house on lots of lonely acres doesn't have a swimming lake or a fishing lake. Doesn't have a playground and lots of woods and creeks. Doesn't have a soccer field or a baseball field. Doesn't have a neighborhood clambake or Easter egg hunt. Burly's acres doesn't have a homeowner's association who hires Santa Claus to come door to door every Christmas!
My realtor said, "They might not be Christians."
"True. Uh, put it down anyway. They have little boys. All little kids love Santa."
We kept making our list. Burly's acres doesn't have a neighborhood garage sale weekend, with its fun, carnival-like atmosphere. Doesn't have an annual bonfire on the last day of school where all the kids get together and burn all their homework from the school year. And most importantly, Burly's acres doesn't have 20 - 30 other little 5 - 7 year old boys who they can become lifelong friends with.
My realtor said, "I'm going to put all of this in an email and send it to their realtor. She's pulling for Marmy too. They're going to make a decision this weekend. We'll see who wears the pants in this family."
"Ok, good. I'm keeping my fingers crossed."
And all I could think of was meek little Marmy with her light brown hair, wearing her knee length, plaid skirt.