Monday, August 1, 2011

Finding "The House"


Mr. Wonderful and I first saw “The House” in late December.  

Let me be more specific, Mr. Wonderful is my husband and he’s just that, awesome.  The day was December 26th when the excitement of Christmas, Santa and receiving gifts is a daily expectation.  And “The House” was a one-story with chipping paint, overgrown lawn and a tilting “For Sale” sign wedged in the front yard.  

We peeked in the windows.  It was filthy, in disrepair and covered in ivy, which had grow up, over and into the chimney so thickly you’d need a blowtorch to remove it. But the house had some things going for it like an open floor plan, a large kitchen and a pool!  I was in love.

The best part though was the sale price, which shockingly, was within our budget. 

I called our Realtor, a woman with a florescent white smile and bottle blond hair who insisted on wearing sensible shoes.  Thelma removed the keys from the lockbox and swung the door open.  We stepped inside The House. 

“It needs a lot of cleaning,” she said sniffing the air.  “And fixing.”  She entered the master bedroom and shrieked.  Mr. Wonderful and I raced in to find her staring at the walls.  

“They’re… green!”
“We know,” I said.
“Lime green and forest green together, which some colorblind fool applied with a sponge--”
“We know.”
“Which makes this the ugliest bedroom I’ve seen in 30 years of being a realtor." 
“We want to buy it.”
“This house?  Absolutely not.”
“It has a pool.”
“Which is empty and might not even hold water.”
“We like the kitchen.”
“I wouldn’t let my daughter cook in that kitchen, not to mention enter this house!”
“We can afford it,” I said.
“Because it’s a dump and needs serious help.” Thelma crossed her arms and shook her head.  “No way.  I won’t let you buy it.”
I looked at Mr. Wonderful.  Could we buy this house and fix it up while living in it?  He nodded and smiled. Yes, we can.

“You're right, Thelma,” I said, “This place is a dump but we can repair it, we can make it beautiful.  We want it.  So will you help us, or not?”

Thelma's sensible shoe tapped on the wood floor while she looked at the green bedroom with disgust.  “Fine, I’ll do it."
"Thank you!" I hugged, then I embraced Mr. Wonderful.
"I can’t decide about you two," Thelma said. "Either you have major vision or you’re complete idiots.”

I didn’t realize how prophetic her words would be.