2001-06-05 - 12:58 a.m.
What a morning.
Our realtor left me a note this weekend to inform me that I had to vacate at 10am Tuesday for a "caravan." What a "caravan" amounts to is a line of carloads of other realtors who come by to check out what's on the market. So at 9:45 this morning I usher the dog and the baby, who are each equally excited to go anywhere but less than enthusiastic about the actual travel, into the bimbobox along with all necessary toys, cushions, food and drink to pacify them both for two hours.
Two hours is the general time for which the house must be empty for a showing, but I get impatient after only one and swing by to check and take a quick bathroom break. No sign of anyone coming by in the past 60 minutes.
What are the signs, you may ask? Usually a business card on the table is a telling clue. Some kind realtors will turn off a few or most of the lights, saving me a bit on the energy bill. And a lot of people leave the closet or bathroom doors open as they go through the house.
None of the above had occurred, so we're back on the road again - the dog whimpering, the baby fussing, and me wishing I had made plans with my parents or some unemployed friend for lunch. We return again at 12:15 and there's still no sign of a bunch of realtors trekking through.
What do you call a bunch of realtors? "Gaggle" would certainly work, but lacks flair. An annoyance of realtors? Could be...
I'm expecting them on the front porch any minute now that the baby's napping and Matt has just arrived to mow the lawn....
