Inspectoration

On Sunday afternoon we set off for the house inspection. With two children, both in need of naps. First we drove around for a bit, since we'd left early, to see if anyone would fall asleep in the car. Child #2 obliged; child #1 did not. We did a drive-by, saw someone sitting outside the house in a truck, the seller about to leave but not gone yet, and passed our realtor as we left for one more loop. Luckily she didn't notice us, or she would have wondered if we'd lost our nerve and were skipping town.

Got back, parked, child #2 woke up. Child #1 still defiantly awake and trying to eat the snow. (Not yellow. Just plain dirty.) In we traipsed, Grumpy (the driver), Dopey (sleep-deprived), Bashful (but hyper), and Snotty (and wailing), to the home that might/may/will be ours. The inspector was already there, one of those thin, ebullient, slightly fey men whom you assume are gay until they mention their wife and then you have to reset your gaydar and remind yourself that there's nothing certain in life.

So B and Monkey headed outside with the inspector to climb on the roof and partake in other good activities for a child who should be napping, and I talked to the floor guy and the walls/windows/kitchens people. This was not a very good job for me alone, because I'm easily swayed by people who know more than I do, so I tend to agree with everything. Thus:

"Will I do inside the closets, where nobody will ever see?"
"Um, sure. I suppose. Yep."
"Will we paint this bit too?"
"Yeah. Why not. Unless we don't need to. Do you think we need to?"
"What about the wallpaper? You don't like the wallpaper, do you?"
"Now you mention it, I hate the wallpaper. Let's get rid of the wallpaper."
"Are you keeping the appliances?"
"Well, yes."
"What about a built-in microwave? You should probably have one of those."
"Um, we do have a microwave. Can't we just make a shelf for it?"
"Oh no, it has to be part of the extractor fan. They're only, what a hundred, two hundred..." (Our microwave was the $40 one. It has rotary dials, like a phone.)
"And these windows in the basement that nobody will ever see, do you want to replace those too with fancy new fiberglass ones that cost a bomb?"
"Sure, yes, let's do that."

I may be backpedalling a bit once we get the quote. After I scrape myself up off the floor.

By the end, the baby had fallen asleep twice (on my front in the Ergo the whole time) and Monkey, after trying to lie down on the floor, had finally conked out in his dad's arms. We conducted our final chat with the realtor over their gentle snores and the rumbling of my tummy. And then we left, everyone woke up, and we headed for two large gourmet burgers and a pleasingly retro ray-gun. The baby had some fries.