Yesterday morning I went to a house I recently staged
to help the homeowner (Hi W.!) get ready for a showing.
W. has a beautiful home--
thousands of square feet so noone's standing
in front of the theater screen
across the room.
Gleaming wood floors,
huge landscaped lot--
this home is a great one!
The only thing standing in the way
of my purchasing her home
is that her asking price is above what I can afford by
give or take.
I showed up just a little bit before the showing
to see W.'s hard work--
and lemme say,
that Momma W. done worked her bum off!
Everything shines like a new penny.
Bedrooms are perfect,
bathrooms are spotless.
We turned on the lights,
cued up the music,
the final touch:
chocolate chip cookies
and water with fresh lemons.
It looked great!
Just as I was about to slip on my shoes
and head out the front door,
the doorbell rang--
it was the Realtor and her clients
seven minutes early FCOL!
W. took off for the backdoor to the garage,
as I greeted the guests as I made my Ethel-like getaway:
"Hi there. I'm not the homeowner. Nice to meet you.
The house is beautiful. Have a nice day."--
wondering if W. was gonna get out before being noticed.
I jumped in my big honkin' Sub and went home--
thinkin' that W. had also jumped into her big honkin' sub
and left her house.
Only she didn't.
She got in her car, intending to leave--
but realized she didn't know where the Realtor parked--
was it in the driveway or on the street?
If it's in the driveway,
there was no way she was going back into the house
and ask them to move their car.
Because she didn't want to make any sort of impression
on the buyers.
she'd been too busy to fix her hair and make-up!
So channeling Lucy,
W. did what any awesome-house-selling-momma would do--
she got into her car and hid inside there
until the Realtor and buyers left her house.
While in there,
she remembered that a breaker switch had flipped,
so she waited until she could hear them going upstairs
and jumped out of the car to flip the switch
(I'm guessing it was in the garage!)
and jumped back into her hiding place.
She heard them come into the garage,
and hid under a big coat of her husband's--
and held her breath for dear life
until they left.
And this, dear people, is one of the many many reasons,
Mothers like W. have secured their place in heaven.
Lucy woulda been proud.
I know I am.