Just about the time I was surveying the damage and deciding what mess I would clean first, I heard the gravels crunching in our driveway. Hmmm. I looked out the window, thinking I’d probably see my mamaw.
No such luck.
It was the appraisal guy. And he was 1 hour and 15 minutes early.
And at one instance, I realized all of these things: I was still in my underwear. I had not brushed my teeth. There were dishes piled HIGH in the sink, and it smelled strangely of crusty tacos and an old sponge. Rhyan had just soaked the couch with spit up. Laundry was everywhere. Everywhere. I was still in my underwear. I was still in my underwear.
And actually, I just stood at the window until he was completely out of his truck, and starting to walk up on our porch. I don’t know why. I think I was just shocked at the complete mess that was my house, and paralyzed by the fact that I didn’t know what to do first.
I took off running to the bedroom to throw on some shorts. That was all I had time for. By the time I heard the first knock, I had just got my bottoms up. I ran through the house and told PB to hurry and pick up the house.
Uhhhh, okay, mom. I’ll get right on that.
When I got to the door, I realized I knew the appraisal guy. Not sure if it makes this situation better or worse?
Anyway, he came in the house, told me he just needed to get a few pictures for the paperwork, and he’d be out of the way. I apologized for the mess and craziness of the house. He said not to worry, he’d seen worse. Yeahhh.
He walked around the kitchen first, so I made a quick dodge to the bedroom to throw some clothes under the bed.
As I was slinging socks into the closet, I heard him flush the toilet. YA’LL. I HEARD HIM FLUSH THE TOILET.
I felt my face get hot. You know when you get really embarrassed and you get the red face and it burns? Mine was on fire, literally. He had walked into the half bath to take a picture FOR THE APPRAISAL OF OUR HOUSE, and he had to flush a turd down the toilet before he could take the picture.
I will have you know that at this point, I quit cleaning my room, and calmly walked into the living room with my children, and accepted the sting of defeat.
So, the moral of this story is if you plan on coming to my house to see me and you come at an earlier time than promised, I can not guarantee the state of my home. Consider yourself warned!
Have a blessed day 🙂