How to sell a house
As DC reaches for the clean monogrammed hand towel hanging next to his sink, I dive in for an interception. I whip the towel away an instant before his soggy mitts, which are aiming right for the center front of the pristine towel, make contact.
“Don’t use the towel that way!” I say. “You have to dry your hands on the back side.” I reach to the back half of the towel by the wall to demonstrate. “Or air dry.”
“Are you serious?” His eyebrows raise like a drawbridge.
“It’s a staging trick,” I add. “Oh, and please don’t use the bar soap.” I look down at the just-used brand new bar of designer soap, now sitting soppy in the dish that a minute ago was free of soap residue and scum. “Use the liquid stuff under the sink, please.”
I reclean the soap dish till it shines, replace the used hand soap with a new designer bar, and try not to sigh too audibly.
DC looks at me as if he’s not sure I am the same woman he married. Since we bought our house two years ago, and got married, he’d never had to live with the live-in home-stager side of me. Until now.
When I’m in house-sell mode, like someone who turns into a werewolf at the full moon, I shift from neat-nick to neat freak.
The house listing was going public the next day, and our first showing was already scheduled. Over the past few weeks, I’d had the house power washed outside, carpets cleaned, the big tree out front trimmed to let in more light, the front yard re-landscaped, the carriage lamps outside repainted, and the flowerpots in the courtyard professionally planted.
Next, I got — and please don’t tell anybody this as it would ruin my reputation — a pod. I know! […]