The Hunted

I’m exhausted.

I’ve just spent all afternoon with my parents looking at houses. I now find out I’m to be the permanent fixture on these hunts. They trust my judgement. Oh. Goodie.

They can’t hear very well, so shout at each other. They can’t decide for sure what it is they want, so bicker constantly. Now you put them in a small car with a real estate agent who is someone my father went to school with 50-some years ago and we have a real fun time going. You can imagine.

To top it off, I worked in the morning and they made the appointment with the agent at such a time that I had just enough time to run home, grab them, and run out the door – by 5 o’clock I was ready to gnaw off a limb, I was so hungry.

Give me patience, Lord… I still have my house… and for now, my sanity.

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Middle-aged. Anti-social. Mom. Grandma. Town-raised farmer's wife. Iowan. Want more? Come read the blogs.

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