Bit in the Rear, Part 2

...So fast-forward 5 1/2 hours later after feverishly cleaning like a mad-woman (and man... Thank you very much, Honey.); feeding the kids fast food for lunch; and sending Mark to Target {smooch, smooch} for paper towels, Clorox wipes, 409 spray, and fresh flowers & green apples for staging.

{And yes, dirty laundry was put into trash bags and hidden, clean laundry stuffed back into the dryer, and although not done this time, I have put dirty dishes in the warming drawer or dishwasher with clean dishes!!! So glad I'm not the only one!}

It was finally 2:30 and time to leave for the hour. (Mark had already left shortly before and was going to meet us later. So, this next part is all me and my brilliant handlings...) I threw the two big, still pajama-clad kids in their carseats and ran upstairs to grab the baby who had just woken from his afternoon nap. Poopy. No really... Poopy diaper. Ugh! I don't have time for a poopy diaper! What if they come a few minutes early and walk in to my half-naked, poop-covered son on the floor!? What if? What I'm to say next, I'm not proud of, but I'm putting it all out there. Yes, I put him in his carseat poop and all, threw in a diaper and wipes, and screeched out of the driveway with 9 minutes to spare. (There, I said it...) First stop... The park a mile down the road for a diaper change! Ahem. "No, kids, I'm sorry we can't play. You still have your pajamas on and no shoes!" Ahem. Ahem.

Then, as always, we stalk our own home for part of the hour, driving by half-a-dozen times. Did they show? What kind of car do they drive? Can you see them in the windows? Are they sitting at the kitchen table writing a big, fat check? Please tell me that we're not the only ones that do this. Please.

Driving by the 1st time at roughly 2:49... Nobody there yet.

Driving by for the 2nd time at roughly 2:59... Nobody there yet. {Oh, no I didn't...}

Driving by for the 3rd time at roughly 3:14... Nobody there yet. {Oh, yes I did...}

Did anybody catch on yet? In "Bit in the Rear, Part 1" when I received the phone call from the realtor's office, they wanted to set up the showing for 3:45-4:45. Notice the times above again. Yes-sirree. I half-killed myself to leave home a full hour early, poopy baby and all. By this time, I had stopped back home to double-check the time that I had jotted down on scrap paper that morning. 3:45. Great! At least now I can get the kids some quick hobo-looking outfits and shoes to take them to the park. Leaving a message for Mark then, I confessed that yes, he was right. He had asked me earlier in the day about nap time, since the showing was at 3:45. "Nooo, it's at 2:45. No naps!" He was right twice in one day. Twice.

After all was said and done, the party did come through the house, since we found the lights off and candles blown out when we returned. (No, we didn't drive by 9 times again to check! We were at the park with ice cream, thankyouverymuch.) We just got the feedback emailed this morning from our realtor about this showing... The buyer wasn't sure of our layout. So what if the master bedroom is the size of a "child's shoebox" with the "master bath" two floors down in the basement? {insert "Tommy Boy" air quotes...} So what? Deal with it and make an offer! It's the least they could do for what they put me through...