Monday, February 22, 2010
On Sunday, B and I decided to hit a few open houses in our neighborhood to see what is for sale, how much they are asking and to satisfy our general need to snoop in other people's homes. After seeing way too much wallpaper and a gorgeous house on our street but out of our price range, we decided to wrap it up with one final house that B had been to before with the "sexy" kitchen (as one realtor described it).
A "sexy" kitchen, apparently, is one that is newly remodeled while still keeping the charm of the old house. And you can cook up a storm in there. I will admit, even I gasped upon seeing it.
After leaving that area, B called down to me from the staircase to "come check out the third floor." As I was turning the staircase to head up, I hear this small voice say to me very angrily:
HEY! WE ARE CHECKING THIS OUT.
I look down to see a small boy about 6 right up in my face, pointing a finger at me. He looked extremely pissed off that anyone would dare check out this house while he and his family are checking it out. Territorial, much? It must be a joy to play at his house "HEY! *I* am playing with THAT toy." Of course, since I am not a 6 year old kid, I found the exchange amusing:
Me: Wait. YOU are checking out this house?
Me: Do YOU want to live in this house?
Me: Well, you can have it then as I already have a house of my own.
Me: Is that okay? Are we good?
And then he stalked away toward the kitchen. When I reached the top of the staircase, B declared "that is one defensive child!"
He must like the sexy kitchen.