the tale of a showing

Once upon a Thursday, we had a house showing.

Usually, we'll get about 24 hours advance warning,

which gives us enough time to get the house cleaned up again.

Thankfully, we'd had a showing the night before, so the house was in a 15-hours-mess state instead of 75-hours-mess condition.

A 75-hours-mess would have been impossible.

As it was, I'm not sure the day could have been any funnier.

Let me tell you about it.

Thursday morning we started at swim lessons. 

Nicholas swam like a fish. Ellie sat on the steps and retrieved diving rings (with her hands---heaven forbid she get her face wet!), sprinkled with several crying tantrums when other kids would splash and get her nose wet.

Christian chewed on my hand.

When we got home, Kent called to tell me that the AC guy was coming to do our tune-up. And the kids were restless, so I texted my friend to see if her little boy could come play.

We got in a groove. The kids were playing, I cleaned up after our lunch. Christian was napping.

Then the AC guy showed up.

And guys, he looked and sounded and moved just like Jim Gaffigan. Seriously.

Like Jim Gaffigan, but in slow motion.  

After about ten minutes, he apologized for how sluggish he was....apparently he'd taken too much of his high blood pressure medication.

I began to pray he wouldn't pass out on my carpet.

While I was talking to Jim,

our kids' little friend showed up.

And then I got a text message.

We had a house showing. In 1.5 hours.

As the AC guy got started, I informed him that we had a house showing and I would be running around the house cleaning while he was working, and to just come find me if he needed anything.

Turns out,

he did need something. He needed to chat.

For 30 minutes.

We talked about Texas, humidity, Android, smart phones in general, the Nest thermostat, kids growing up too fast, the job market,

and I wanted to scream---"I've got to clean my house!!!"

As soon as he left, 

Nicholas and Ellie decided they should give their little friend a house tour.

Beginning with barging into the baby's room, naturally.

So much for napping baby.

Now I had 45 minutes to clean and I needed to do it with a 15+ lb baby on my hip who doesn't like to bend his body to make it easier for me to hold him.

Board-baby and I cleaned the house.

I finished with mere minutes to spare. 

Shoes on, dirty dishes stashed in the trunk of the car, snacks and water for the kids,

and then 

Ellie had a potty accident.

Awesome.

I got a puddle cleaned up and clothes back on a very emotional three-year-old in just 120 seconds.  I have to say I'm pretty proud of that. Not so proud of the tone of voice I might have used towards said emotional-three-year-old, but it could have been worse. 

We backed out of the driveway. We had an hour to be away from the house, and I didn't really have any idea where we were going to go.

The kids wanted to go to a park, but it was about a billion degrees (aka 105) outside, 

so we went to shave ice instead.

 And we ate veeerrrryy slowly.
They finished up with just ten minutes before we could be back home.
I drove home.  We were a couple of minutes early,
so I left the kids in the car to run inside myself to do the light-check to determine whether the people had come yet. 
(We can always tell if they actually came based on remembering which doors we left open/closed, and which lights we left on.  As people walk through, they always turn off at least 2 lights and leave doors open that I had left closed.)
It didn't look like anyone had come at all.
Confused, I proceeded to turn off all the lights and the movie projector in the basement, 
then I went back out the car to get the kids out.

That's when I got the call. The realtor had been running late and they wondered if they could come right now instead? 
He was in the driveway.

Oookay.  
So we backed out and parked across the street, 
cranked the AC, turned on Curious George (thank you, beautiful van, for having a DVD player),
and Nicholas jumped out to play with his friend out in the yard while we waited.

The people didn't like the house.
They wanted a 3-car garage. And RV parking.
(And I'm pretty sure they could've seen from the pictures online that we do not have a three-car-garage. Or RV parking.)
But I got proof that even with a 3-month-old who refuses to bend his body when I hold him and a very emotional three-year-old, 
I can get my house show-clean in 45 minutes.
So there's that.
Although I am hoping I don't have to repeat that skill. Ever.