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Can’t think of a title

Note: I wrote this yesterday (February 15), but didn’t get the finishing touches on it until today.)

I really want to be a dependable person. I do, but since having kids1 my memory is the equivalent to that of a gold fish. I know I could solve a lot of my forgetfulness by simply writing things down, but the fact is that I would probably forget to read whatever I was writing it down on anyway.

As I’m sure you have guessed an event of sorts has lead to this post so here goes…

The owners of the house we rent have decided to sell this house. (Which, yes, does suck and I really want to be grumpy with them about this, but I’m finding it hard to be mad at someone for selling their own house. And they’ve already had an offer from another investor which would be great for us because I hate moving and it costs, you know, money to move so lets all keep our fingers and toes crossed on that offer going through.) Last week the real estate agent called me to arrange a couple of appointments for this week: One on Monday to take some pictures (which I cleaned the entire house for- every room, and he only took photos of the living room, dining room and kitchen. I mean it was nice to start the week with a completely tidy house, but still.) and the second appointment was today for the sales team to have a walk through and get familiar with the property. The agent called late yesterday afternoon to confirm today’s appointment, but he talked to A and he just passed the message on to me. The appointment was for between 9:45 a.m. and 10:45 a.m. so I made a mental note to get showered and dressed before A left for work opposed to waiting until K went down for her nap around 10.

The next part of the story begins this morning at 7:36 a.m. when A hears his phone ringing. He hops out of bed and realizes he is running late for his business management course and rushes to cleaned and dressed. He has time for two sips of coffee and is then out the door at about eight. In the mean time I’ve gotten K her bottle and started my own breakfast. I say goodbye to him and then sit down to the computer while K drinks her bottle and E is still sleeping. 8:12 a.m. E wakes up and K follows me in to greet her. I asked E if she wanted brekkie and she wasn’t ready yet so the girls played for a bit and I went back to reading blogs and what not. Eventually E wants breakfast and I decided to have another cup of tea. “Why not?”, I thought to myself, “I don’t have anything to do until it’s time to take E to dance class at 12:30 p.m.” I sipped away at my tea and puttered around the house until K went down for her nap around 10, did a few more things and decided to hop in the shower at 10:30. I turned the water on, but luckily I was distracted by a few ants in the bathroom before I got in because about three minutes later there was a knock on the door. “Who on earth could that be?” As I got closer to the door I could see a few silhouettes and I thought, “Great. Mormons.” Seriously! It still hadn’t clicked and I had completely and absolutely forgot that the real estate agents were coming. I opened the door to about ten people. In my pyjamas. My pyjamas that consisted of an over sized t-shirt and baggy plaid pj pants (because I pull out all the stops on Valentine’s). Oh and let’s not forget the messy hair that I hadn’t so much as touched with a brush. Yeah, I was looking good. So I let them in and ran to the bathroom to get dressed and visions of the different untidy rooms started rushing through my head: E’s room was a disaster thanks to her late night the night before, the laundry room had a basket of over flowing laundry (which is all clean2, but how would they know that?), my bed wasn’t made and all our breakfast dishes were still on the dining room table. As I was apologizing for the mess the main agent gave me a little gift consisting of two mugs and some chocolate (unless A is reading this in which case, chocolate? What? Don’t be silly.) which made me feel even worse because, hello? They bring me a present to say thank you for letting us walk through your house and I can’t even remember they’re coming for eighteen hours? Ugh. Then I looked up and noticed them beginning to pool around K’s room and I told them it was the baby’s room and they could have a look, but just try and be quiet because she was sleeping. I also added, “Don’t worry, if she wakes up it’s not the end of the world.” Which? Yeah right. Maybe it’s not the end of the world, but it is the end of my chance of a decent shower. Of course she woke up and was all, “What the?” and of course I said, “Oh, it’s OK.” It was funny though because the entire time they looked around K just starred at them with a look of concern without so much as a peep, but as soon as they left and I shut the door she burst into tears. And I was lucky because she went back down to sleep for a half an hour and I got my decent shower after all.

Anyway, the lesson learned is: If I want to become more dependable3, which I do, I really should try to start and write things down.

1 When all else fails blame the kids.

2 Notice the use of present tense – the laundry is still sitting in a basket in the laundry room.

3 The worst part of this is that as I was writing this yesterday I almost made us late for E’s dance class. Ack!


3 Responses

  1. Oh man! Funny.

  2. My mind is already like a sieve, so I’m in trouble! 🙂

  3. How did I miss seeing this post before?

    Hilarious! And also, I love the “Great. Mormons.” part. Crack me up.

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