Real Estate Agent SWAT Team

Today we had a house showing, but not the typical walk a client through; this was a real estate agent SWAT team. This showing was only for the agents in our area to become "familiar" with our house so that they could better promote it. So you know what that meant...I spent all day yesterday and this morning sprucing up the homestead and seriously considered putting the children in stocks so that I could keep it clean.

 

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Well at 10:15am 14 agents poured out of two cars (not kidding, looked like some of those clown cars) and into my home. I had positioned myself halfway in the living room with a welcoming smile plastered across my face.  I had decided to stand right there because it seemed like I would look involved and interested, but not so anxious that I was jumping and slobbering on the front door glass. Because of the all the people coming, I had picked up Bitsy to keep her from getting startled (or tripped over) As they began storming the house, they came in like a SWAT. Each one ran to a different room to make their notes and peek in closets, try overhead lights, flush toilets, note how many prescription bottles were in my bathroom cabinet, try faucets, shake their head at my laundry basket of dirty clothes and poke the baby.

The older Scribblers were fed by the frenzy and ran room to room, helter skelter and talking animatedly about everything that the agents were talking about. You would think they had never seen Outsiders before and they all but jumped on their legs and piddled in the floor from the excitement.

In no time at all I found myself cowering in the kitchen corner, wide eyed, sweating profusely and feeling like sucking my thumb in the fetal position. I clung to Bitsy like a security blanket trying to shield her from all the agents wanting to pinch her cheeks and gush about how cute she is. Don't get me wrong, I want every one to marvel and gush about Bitsy, but when you storm me and swarm me like a bunch of fireants...I really go into the "Fight or Flight" mentality.

In no time at all, the SWAT team had made their notes (especially about my laundry basket, I am sure) and began shoving their business cards at me. I pulled my thumb from my mouth and accepted the cards as they began filing out of the house. The swarm of activity is gone, but the traumatic 15 minutes we endured will last the rest of the day. We have shut the blinds, turned off all over head lights and currently there is soothing music playing.

All I know, is this house better sell...soon.