Monday, November 10, 2014


                                               "A Man's Home Is His Castle"

     A few months ago, I wrote three essays about the process of selling a home. After four realtors informed us that our dream home was worth $75,000 less than we had anticipated, we decided not to list it. Good decision. Many others have endured the grueling days of no clients or clients who act interested and never return or insult their taste in numerous ways. 

     Mr. Wonderful still wants to head south for the hot, not content with the warm, so we have taken the plunge and listed the house. We are now told that the house is worth $15,000 less than the devastating news of the spring, but the good news is that most others have taken their homes off the market, so there’s considerably less competition. yay.

     Part of the process of having strangers walk through your home gawking, judging, criticizing every inch of space (calculating whether it’s worth the dollar-per-square-foot standard) is reading the feedback. Imagine someone coming up to your first born and pointing out every tiny flaw and telling you they think she’s beautiful, but not worth the price. Are you effen kiddin’ me? “Don’t take it personally,” realtors warn. Yeah, right. 

     After reading the feedback from client number one, I’m ready to bail. I’ve never really been into public humiliation, but I guess I’m not equipped for the private version. I just want to get a peek at these people and see how perfect their homes are. I want to look them up and down and judge whether they have the necessary neurons to even comment on our “baby.”

     Get over it, big girl. This is only the beginning. By the time we sell our prized possession (assuming that we are still standing), we will have no dignity left, and we will sell it for $15 plus tax and move into a shelter.

     I sure hope they wiped their feet.