Our realtor’s name is an old man’s name. It’s the same name I considered naming our son in my post-partum haze. Because newborns look like old men. Our realtor, on the other hand, looks young enough for me to have taught high school English to*. And he’s awesome.
Allow me to submit the following photo as evidence.
This is not our realtor. It is his dog. Okay. Owning a chiweenie (that’s right…a chihuahua crossed with a dauchshund!) doesn’t automatically make you cool. It might even make you lame, in the eyes of people who used to claim 150 pounds of dog. But this guy is a native Grand Rapids son who knows his town, knows people, and gets us. I pretty much want everyone to buy a house from him always.
That said, I think we’re gonna rent for a year.
We just returned from a 6-day home-hunting trip. We looked at 12 places to buy, several of them twice. We looked at a handful of rentals. We drove for hours every day. We drank local beer, tested local slides, sampled 2 local hummuses, and visited 2 local libraries. We got pre-approved for a loan while we slept. We dipped our toes in a lake. In this instance, our son busted out with his second-ever two-word phrase: “SHOES ON! SHOES ON!” He’s not so into sand. We piled in a 2-bedroom hotel suite with my parents. Somehow the toddler ended up with the king bedroom while we ended up on the pull-out couch.
We’re tired. We’re spinning. We still don’t have a place to live. The movers arrive in 13 days.
Thankfully, the new employer is providing movers. Thankfully, they will put us up in a hotel for a month. We know that hotel well, and our kid even consents to putting his toes in the pool (<- view the video!).
So the “plan” is to find a rental downtown. Those quotes are not unnecessary. They are an acknowledgement that tomorrow we may move to another plan. I strive to go with the flow, while managing as much of the “plan” as possible. Meanwhile, we breathe. And wait for the guy with the old man’s name (and his dog) to find us that perfect home.
*I can hear my dad telling me not to end a sentence with a preposition.