We had our second house showing today. I actually had my cell phone in the house so I heard it ring three times in a row, but I didn't answer it because I was on the other side of the house feeding and rocking Claire in preparation for her nap.
Then the house phone rang. Thinking maybe somebody really did need to talk to me, I answered it. It was Matt, calling to tell me a real estate agent was in our driveway and wanted to show our house. The agent had been calling my cell phone.
I put a premature end to Claire's meal, tossed her up on my shoulder and flew through the house grabbing as much out-of-place stuff as I could hold. There was a lot, so not everything made the cut though I did my best. I stuffed what I had into the cabinet beneath my bathroom sink just as the doorbell rang.
On my way to the door I double-checked that all the toilets were flushed (we've abided by the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" rule since the drought of a few years ago, but we make a real effort to remember to flush for visitors). And then Claire and I walked around and around the cul-de-sac because I know how it is when sellers don't leave.
Is there a point to this story? Not really. But I'm one day closer to finishing NaBloPoMo.