The Assessor Only Rings Once…

Or, Scoop & Hide: the Second Installment of My Saga of Domestic Ineptitude

Honestly, I didn’t expect to be writing this so soon after the first installment. I thought I’d have a little time to hide my secret shame. But fate sometimes takes some funny turns –and  this one was too funny not to relate.

This afternoon around 2:00 PM Kevin called from work and casually mentioned that a Real Estate Appraiser would be coming by around 3:00 PM. “Why,’ you are probably wondering.

Well, we all react to stress differently but a common element is the need to take control of some part of your life. So, when Amanda got hurt I threw myself compulsively into this blog. Kevin decided to refinance the house. Rates are low, our credit score is good and, in all honesty we are probably facing some major medical and remodeling costs to accommodate Amanda post-accident.

With my head buried deep in Blog Land I didn’t realize that the refinance had moved along so quickly. Having spent the morning at the doctor’s with Amanda rather than making beds and doing dishes the house was in even worse shape than normal.

No worries. I resorted to my tried and true house cleaning secret – The Scoop & Hide. One of my favorite things about this house is the 6’ by 12’ walk-in closet in my bedroom. After getting off the phone with Kevin I literally ran around the main floor, grabbing stray shoes, books, backpacks, papers, clothing and toys and tossing them in to this lovely, huge closet.

Viola!   The scoop and hide was complete. I pulled out the Shark Floor & Carpet Sweeper and ran it over all of the rugs and hardwood floors. I rinsed the dishes and stuck them will-nilly into the dishwasher then wiped off the kitchen counter. I was about to tackle the rooms in the basement when…

Ding Dong

“Mom”, said Danielle. “There’s a guy at the door with a huge tape measure and a camera.”

“Huh? A camera? Oh shit. Oh, well at least the main floor looks okay,” I thought.

I answered the door and invited the man inside. He gave me a slightly strange look so I immediately started to apologize for the chalk and toys littering the front porch. “Oh, sorry, the kids are home for the summer and I’m trying to balance my older daughter’s recovery with the younger one's desire to play outside. I meant to get her toys off the steps before you got here.”

He smiled and came in. He walked through the house, measuring each room and photographing it. I felt pretty smug until he opened The Closet. I just had to laugh and say, “Normally I wouldn’t let even my closest friends look in my closets…” He took a picture if the  closet, crammed full of clutter then moved on to the basement. I didn’t even bother to follow him down there. I figured, “At least the closets down there are clean.” (Of course that’s only because the floor was knee deep in toys.) Fifteen minutes later he came back upstairs and said goodbye.

It was only when I walked him to the door that I realized there was a dead mouse on the front steps. No wonder he looked at me so weird when I said I hadn’t picked up my child’s toys!