Today I was making election night plans with a friend. One option included going to their house and when this came up the person said “no criticizing the crappy yard or myriad of half-finished home improvement projects inside.” I chuckled at this because earlier this summer I went to another friend’s house for a picnic and when I walked in they said “Hey, don’t Realtor my house!”
It’s amusing that friends always assume my house is perfect and that I’m going to “Realtor” their house whenever I come over to visit. The only time I’m ever going to “Realtor” someone’s house is if they specifically invite me over to do so. Really, I can turn real estate off and become a normal person with dust on their furniture, weeds in their flower beds, and questionable decorating habits.
If you don’t believe me, take a look at the back staircase in my kitchen. It’s painted (I kid you not) Pepto Bismol pink and has a menagerie of dog photos. Not dogs I know, just random dogs. I think it’s whimsical, but I typically get comments like “Huh, interesting color. What are you going to do about this when you sell your house?” and “You don’t know any of these dogs? What’s the point? Did Kyle approve this?”
I like pink. I like dogs. I don’t remember if Kyle approved of it. He seems to live with it now without complaint.
My point is this; If you invite me over, I’m coming to your house to hang out with you and have a good time. I am not coming to judge your home. But if you really want me to, I can say “Don’t worry, I’ve seen much worse.” Because in my line of work, I always have…