Monday, February 15, 2010

Sounded the Warning

The Home Inspection on our home was scheduled for this morning at 8:30 by the buyers. I was prepared to go over to my mom's for a few hours. The kids were off from school and I didn't want to be mucking about.

Early this morning (4 am to be precise) Baby Girl came into our room announcing that she had thrown-up. So with a thorough clean up of her and her bed, I relocated her to our room. None too soon, she threw up again. Twice.

I planned to still go to my mom's, and take extra clothes and the throw up bucket with us.

6:30. Brown-Eyed Girl came in my room. Her belly hurts. I told her to get a throw up bucket too.

7:30. Cease fire on the younger one barfing. BEG commences barfing. Okay. Do I risk taking the barfington twins in a car just to watch them puke at my mom's and then bring them back in 2 hours.

8:30. I was still home and announced to the inspector and the potential buyers, as I opened the front door, that they were welcome to continue with the inspection if we could stay. But my house smelled oh- so lovely.

I sat there in the frontroom with my older two kids reading books, the sick girls spread out on a mattress pad on the floor, and the one-year old running around staring at the weird people who were leaving on all the faucets.

It's procedure, I know. And even though it wasn't my business, one can't help leaning in to hear what the home inspector is telling your potential buyers about your home. It was compelling, yet I didn't want to hear, because I can't do anything about it until they submit their findings and requests for repair. That means I will have to wait at least 3 days. It was maddening.

Not to mention that the inspector kept pausing to talk to the buyers about their jobs, or the latest movie he'd seen. I felt like screaming, "Hey! Get your crap done and get out of my house so it can become their house, and I can get on with cleaning up barf!"

I'm not so nice when I'm tired and smelly.

Thus my warning:

If you have a home inspector coming to your home, and your children just happen to come down with the flu, the plague, scurvy... go to your mother's for two hours. You won't have to strain to hear what's wrong with your house, then worry about it for the next two days when you can do nothing anyway.

Plus your mom might have some good ideas for getting vomit out of hair.

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