Broken Broken Broken...Freaking Broken

The Husband and I scrambled on Saturday morning to straighten our house up and hide some of the clutter before The Realtor showed up to do an assessment about putting our house on the market in a few months.  It looked presentable when she showed up.  Thomas the Train had thrown up everywhere again, but The Toddler was playing nicely with them.

Needless to say, The Realtor was over the top thrilled with the condition of our house…which I thought was really strange.  Like, she was super duper excited and just kept exclaiming how well we have kept it up, how nice our little upgrades are…blah blah blah. 

I thought she had lost her ever loving mind and was just feeding us a line.  She sold us the house we live in now, nearly ten years ago.  She’s stayed in touch.  We like her, but I thought she was losing it.

So The Realtor sent us an email on Saturday night with houses in our price range and specifications.  Garage, three or more bedrooms, a family room and a living room, etc. Nothing drastic.

The Husband and I poured over the list and wrote down the ones that we thought would be really great to take a quick peek at.  Scout the neighborhoods, stalk the neighbors, find our Forever Home.  Whoo hooo!

So Sunday, after my car drove away (another story for another time), and I got over my hissy fit over The Husband Shanghai’ing me and selling my car that fast (again, another story for another day), we piled in the truck and headed off with our list and our GPS.

First house…we were really really hopeful.  Pics on line showed that it needed a little TLC…nothing major.  The streetview on Google was pretty good.  Houses were clean and well kept.  It was in a nice neighborhood. 

Yeah, we drove by it at first because it didn’t look like the picture anymore.  They must’ve pulled up its original listing picture ever how many  years ago.

GAG.

The place was rotting.  Literally.  The doors were rotting, the siding was rotting, the back deck was rotting.  The back door was so rotted that it just popped open. The water leak upstairs had rotted out the living room ceiling.  There was a pile of trash in the back part of the living room that was as tall as me.  The appliances had been ripped out in the kitchen and tossed.   

Mater lives there.

It was a heap.

I literally cried.   I did.  I choked up and got really sad over the mess.

This beautiful home (at one time), with beautiful floors (at one time), with a beautiful back yard (at one time) was destroyed.   Absolutely destroyed.  It was just sad now.  At some point, it was loved.  The paint colors were not picked out by someone who couldn’t have cared less…and the flooring at one point was stunning.  But it was sad. 

And they were asking WAY too much for it.  I’m not sure I would buy it…I might have to win it in some Loser Raffle before I took it.

We got back in the truck, and The Toddler kept asking what was wrong and why were we not going in?   We explained it was Broken.  Because I could not use any other descriptive words in front of The Toddler that would have accurately described it.  I don't need him going to Daycare and announcing what I originally said as I took in the mess at this house.  Broken was about as best I could do at that moment.

Then we went to Number Two:  Broken

Number Three:  Broken

Number Four:  It’s Okay.  Not Broken, but not the Forever House we are looking for.   Tiny corner lot.  Beautiful landscaping.  But it was just Okay.

Number Five:  We didn’t even stop it was so Broken.

Number Six:  Again, we didn’t even stop.  Broken Broken Broken.

Number Seven:  DING DING DING!  Gorgeous place , but about 15 miles too many for The Husband to drive to work.  Well kept, well maintained home.  *sigh*  Ok, ours ears just perked up.  We have a little glimmer of hope again.

Number Eight:  Broken…again, we didn’t even stop because every house on the block is Broken.

Number Nine:  We were hopeful as the neighborhood was looking well kept and nice.   The house…Majorly Broken.  So Broken that I walked around back, and walked back to the truck. Told The Husband to not even bother getting out.  The Toddler still didn’t understand why we were looking at Broken houses.  He wanted his Playroom for his Train Table, NOW.  Because that was our selling point to The Toddler to get him out of the house.

Number Ten:  It was Okay, but there was absolutely no yard whatsoever.    Like I could mow with the weed eater…or scissors.  With a small child, it was just silly.  And it was under high voltage power lines.  No thank you.

We stopped driving around, reset the GPS for home, and left.

We get back home, to our big lot, our ‘well maintained’ house and our familiar neighbors.   Our neighborhood is Okay…the schools are Okay…I'm almost to the point of saying 'forget it...I'm good'.

At least it isn’t Broken. 

WOW.