In Need of Mary Poppins

Jeff and I attended an Open House down the street from us yesterday. The house is very similar to ours in layout and style, so we wanted to see what their asking price was, and chat up their agent a bit while we there. We got some good information, but we also got super overwhelmed.

The people that live in the house are a young married couple, without kids. Which apparently gives you time to beautifully decorate your house. And it looks like things stay where you put them, and no one tracks dirt on your carpet, and nobody spills sippy cups on the carpet. When I say to you the house was immaculate, I am totally understating it's perfection. I came out doubting that people actually inhabited the space.

When we walked back through our own front door, I saw the carpet I have been battling for three years. The dings in the paint from people throwing toy cars. The clutter accumulated by three boys. And when I thought about trying to get our house ready to put on the market and show, I fainted away on the floor. Okay, now I am exaggerating, but at that moment I wished I was a fainter, because it would have fit the situation perfectly.

So, I picked a room to attack first and ended up with our storage room. If I was being truthful with you, I would admit that there were boxes in that room that I have not opened one time since we moved in, and that the crap is astounding piled up against the walls. Instead I will lie to you and say that of course every piece of flotsom and jetsom in that room was meaningful and purposeful.

Seriously. Apparently in high school I strongly believed it was EXTREMELY necessary to save every scrap of paper I ever wrote on because MY THOUGHTS WERE THAT IMPORTANT! Someday this note to a person in 3rd period I no longer remember COULD save the world. At least I got a good laugh out of it. My idealism was slightly nauseating, but provided great entertainment value, especially to my husband who spent the next few hours snorting uncontrollably with laughter, spurting phrases like, "I love him so much! He's my SOULMATE!!!" My advice to the young? Throw away that crap before your husband can use it as blackmail.

Sadly, we aren't done with that room yet. Happily, we do have a pile of 10 bags of trash, and a pile of things I am going to list on Craig's List. We're going to keep plugging tonight, and maybe in 10 years my house will be presentable for the general public. Until then, I will leave you with this gem. Presenting MOI, at my senior prom.