I’ve decided that Bahrain is Muscat’s less attractive cousin. I’m sure she’s very nice, but not exactly my first pick for a date to the prom.
In case you were romanticizing it, this House Hunter’s International thing is not easy, or really very fun. Part of it might be because we have to haul a hot, tired, and cranky toddler in and out of the car every few minutes or because I actually had to say “get off that BRAND NEW TABLE!” when my child didn’t realize that the wooden platform in the living room was not a stage, but a table that didn’t have legs yet. I hope the new occupants don’t mind dusty footprints with their dinner.
I also may have lost it and screamed, “We are not getting a house with a pool! Pools equal DEAD BABIES!” when the boys wouldn’t quit arguing over which pool was better of two houses that I equally hated (mostly because of the stupid pools). That rendered them silent for about 30 seconds so it was worth it.
Other house hunting gems: the agent (from India) telling us, “White Americans make the most beautiful babies — they look like toys.” (Ohhh-kaaay.) And upon hearing the price of a place, pre-negotiation, Caleb burst out, “We have that!” Thanks kid. Great poker face on that one.
So that about sums up today. Minus the kid bickering and toddler screaming that I left out for your enjoyment. Happy house hunting! May the odds be *ever* in our favor!
