The Mice at Play

Last week we received news that Kara’s father had suffered a minor heart-attack. He is doing well, but did have to stay in the hospital for two days. Wednesday Kara traveled to California to help their mother. She returned Sunday.

As is the case when Kara is away, our home slowly begins to transform from the Pristine Palace to my college apartment. I don’t consider myself a slob, and I double my cleaning efforts when she is away, but there is just something missing. By Saturday morning it was getting bad and I had the thought that it would be terribly ironic if we got the “showing” call that day. Of course within the hour we did.

Fortunately we had three hours to get ready, which was about right. When Kara is here I have found that about one hour is optimal. After the first harried hour, there is nothing else to do but she feels obligated to fill the time with preparation so I end up with jobs like polishing my shoes or re-fluffing the carpet. (OK, I’m exaggerating about he shoes.) It is funny, after the stairs have been fluffed, heaven forbid someone need to run upstairs for something. If they don’t tiptoe along the edge of the staircase, re-fluffing is in order. I don’t get it. Potential buyers are going to go upstairs, probably flat-footed right up the middle of the steps. They’re going to be real impressed going up the stairs, but on the way back down for some reason the home will have lost some of its charm.

Anyway, we did fine with our three hours. The carpeting on the stairs may have been slightly flatter than my partner would have preferred but “When the cat’s away…”