And if you all just got a mental image of Vanilla Ice OR Hugh Laurie, well, you’re very welcome. Think of it as your Friday treat.
It is still Friday, just about – and lo, on Wednesday the Jeffcoats did receive an email from Rightmove with houses for sale, and they saw this house, and it was good. And on Thursday they booked a viewing appointment with an estate agent they tried not to dislike, and the house, it was very good. And behold, on the Friday, the Jeffcoats saith: we had better get this flat on the market sharpish, then.
Tricky, when every conceivable surface is covered in wax crayon. Honestly. Hen’s drawing-on-walls phase lasted a comparatively short time, before his desire to use the wall as a canvas was overcome by the sheer might of my Angry Eyebrows, but in those five days he seems to have gone a bit Jackson-Pollock-on-speed. We’ve needed to move for a good while, though, and there are things we’re missing that would make life so much easier: rooms with doors, a kitchen larger than a phone box, a garden closer than a fifteen minute walk.
I’m excited at the prospect. But these things also terrify me with their largeness, their potential for all-encompassing change, so I’m also panicking a fair bit. This house has been our life so far: from honeymoons, to coupledom, and then with babies to draw on the wall. I don’t really know what I’ll do without it. So I’m grateful for two days of polyfiller and paint to occupy me. We can shine ‘er up real nice, and then let her go.
(I just got a mental picture of Henry and polyfiller. Anyone want a toddler for the day? Not potty-trained, I’m afraid, but he can watch Tangled like a champ, eat a full packet of chocolate buttons in three minutes and count to fourteen on request. (Why fourteen? Because this is generally how many chocolate buttons come in a packet. Only the best life skills taught here.))