Pssst... Hey there. It's me... Carl. Let me tell you, being a Realtor has its moments. There’s a certain thrill to it—getting to know people, showing dream homes, and, of course, finding the perfect place for a family to settle in. But showing homes to a family? That’s a whole different beast. Imagine wrangling a herd of cats, except these cats are armed with juice boxes, sticky fingers, and very strong opinions.
The Family: A Whole Circus of Personalities
When I get the call to show homes to a family, I know I’m in for an adventure. There’s always the dad, who’s overly enthusiastic about everything, climbing into attics like he's Indiana Jones looking for hidden treasure. The mom? She’s got Pinterest boards on her mind, mentally rearranging furniture and asking if the kitchen island can double as a homework station while still allowing her to make that Instagram-worthy charcuterie board.
Then, there are the kids. Oh, the kids. They’re either sprinting through the house as if they’ve discovered the world’s best obstacle course, or they’re standing in the middle of the living room loudly proclaiming which rooms are “gross.” In these moments, I stand quietly by with my practiced Realtor smile, thinking, It’s fine. It’s all fine.
The Pre-Show Ritual: Snacks, Snacks Everywhere
It always starts with the family texting me: “We’ll meet you at 3, right after snack time.” I’ve learned to fear this phrase. Snack time is never really over, it just evolves. What begins as an innocent bag of pretzels in the car ends up with crushed remnants scattered throughout each home we tour.
At the first house, the kids are munching on granola bars. By the third house, the backseat of their car looks like a crime scene of crumbs, half-eaten crackers, and somehow, everyone is sticky. Even the dog, if there’s one in tow. And, of course, snacks are like glitter—by the end of the day, they’re everywhere, even places you can’t explain.
House #1: “This Smells Weird”
The first house is always the toughest. The moment we step inside, one of the kids sniffs the air dramatically and says, “This smells funny.” Of course it does. I smile politely, even though I’m almost certain it’s just the lingering aroma of freshly sprayed Febreze, because no house smells exactly right to a kid.
Instead of admiring the vaulted ceilings or discussing square footage, the parents now turn into scent detectives, hunting for the source of the “weird smell.” Meanwhile, the kids are either hanging off my leg or pressing every button they can find on the kitchen appliances. At this point, I’ve become a babysitter-slash-tour-guide, trying to keep them from opening the fridge or launching themselves into the empty pool out back.
House #2: Trampoline Dreams Crushed
The second house always brings out the big dreams. The backyard is barely large enough for a small garden, but before I can say anything, Dad is already dreaming about a trampoline. The eldest child, lying flat on the grass, crushes the dream immediately: “This yard is too small for a trampoline.” The dad's face falls.
Meanwhile, the mom has shifted her focus to a suspicious patch of weeds near the fence. “Is that poison ivy?” she asks, eyeing me as if I should’ve known. I nod and mutter something noncommittal while mentally noting to Google "common backyard weeds" when I get back to the office.
House #3: The Battle Over Bathrooms
By the third house, I know we’re hitting the “bathroom debate” stage. In every family, there’s always one moment where the need for an extra bathroom becomes a source of deep, philosophical debate. “Can we make this work with just one bathroom upstairs?” the mom asks, eyeing her children like she’s considering whether they’ll ever reach an age where sharing is an option. Spoiler: they won’t.
Meanwhile, the kids have found the toilets. It’s a game now. I hear a flush. Too late. I’m already calculating how many seconds I have before something terrible happens.
House #4: The Open Floor Plan Trap
Ah, the open floor plan. Every parent’s dream until they realize there’s no escape from their kids. The moment we walk into this house, I see the mom light up—until her eyes land on her kids, running wild. I can see her silently imagining the chaos of family dinners, homework battles, and finding crayons stuffed into the couch cushions for the next decade.
The dad’s still trying to be optimistic: “It’s great for family time,” he says, while one of the kids demonstrates the acoustics of the space by making fart noises. I make a mental note to remind them that noise travels in open spaces, but I let it slide—for now.
House #5: Surprise Dog Attack
By the time we hit house number five, I’m running on fumes, and so is the family. This is usually where things get...interesting. Sure enough, as soon as I open the door, a giant golden retriever comes barreling out of nowhere. Apparently, no one mentioned the sellers would leave the dog behind. The kids scream in delight, the parents panic, and I find myself chasing the dog around the yard, apologizing profusely to everyone while pretending I’m completely in control.
Somewhere in the chaos, a decorative vase gets knocked over, and one of the kids starts feeding the dog a granola bar as I get him back into his cage. Perfect.
The Aftermath: Is It Wine O'clock Yet?
After hours of chaos, I finally retreat to the safety of my car, sinking into the driver’s seat. It’s 7 p.m., and I’ve officially survived another day of family showings. I take a deep breath, staring at the crumbs that have mysteriously found their way into my own vehicle. My phone buzzes. It’s the family.
“We’re not sure any of these are the right fit. Can we see more houses this weekend?”
I smile. I text back, “Of course,” and quietly contemplate whether it’s too late to reschedule my kids Taekwondo practice.
But hey, at least I’ll have another story to tell. And if I’m lucky, I might even get another cookie out of it.
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